One has to ask : did Ambrose Bierce grow up on Scroonhoonpooge Farmyard, or an eerily exact replica of it? “The Old Oaken Bucket” – published in The Wasp, 3rd November 1883 – begins thus:
With what anguish of mind I remember my childhood Recalled in the light of knowledge since gained, The malarious farm, the wet, fungus-grown wildwood, The chills then contracted that since have remained; The scum-covered duck pond, the pigsty close by it, The ditch where the sour-smelling house drainage fell, The damp, shaded dwelling, the foul barnyard nigh it – But worse than all else was that terrible well, And the old oaken bucket, the mould-crusted bucket, That moss-covered bucket that hung in the well.
I’m keen on his Tales of Soldiers and Civilians. Like Edgar Allen Poe if he’d fought in the Civil War.
I’ve only read his Devil’s Dictionary, but must explore his wider work if this is typical.