Winn Dixie

some more. " It makes me think of your mother ." Winn-Dixie sniffed at the candy wrapper in the preacher's hand.

" It tastes sad ," he said, and sighed. "It must be a bad batch."

"No," I told him. I sat up in bed. "That's the way it's supposed to taste. Littmus came back from the war and his whole family was dead. His daddy died fighting. And his mama and his sisters died from a disease and the Yankees burned his house down. And Littmus was sad, very sad, and what he wanted more than anything in the whole world was something sweet. So he built a candy factory and made Littmus Lozenges, and he put all the sad he was feeling into the candy." "My goodness," said the preacher. Winn-Dixie snuffed the candy wrapper out of the preacher's hand and started chewing on it.

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