to-kill-a-mockingbird-by-harper-lee-pdf-free-download (1)
cross-examined them. The way that man called him ‘boy’ all the time an‘sneered at him, an’ looked around at the jury every time he answered—”“Well, Dill, after all he’s just a Negro.”“I don’t care one speck. It ain’t right, somehow it ain’t right to do ‘em thatway. Hasn’t anybody got any business talkin’ like that—it just makes me sick.”“That’s just Mr. Gilmer’s way, Dill, he does ‘em all that way. You’ve neverseen him get good’n down on one yet. Why, when—well, today Mr. Gilmerseemed to me like he wasn’t half trying. They do ’em all that way, most lawyers,I mean.”“Mr. Finch doesn’t.”“He’s not an example, Dill, he’s—” I was trying to grope in my memory for asharp phrase of Miss Maudie Atkinson’s. I had it: “He’s the same in thecourtroom as he is on the public streets.”“That’s not what I mean,” said Dill.“I know what you mean, boy,” said a voice behind us. We thought it camefrom the tree-trunk, but it belonged to Mr. Dolphus Raymond. He peered aroundthe trunk at us. “You aren’t thin-hided, it just makes you sick, doesn’t it?”
20“Come on round here, son, I got something that’ll settle your stomach.”As Mr. Dolphus Raymond was an evil man I accepted his invitationreluctantly, but I followed Dill. Somehow, I didn’t think Atticus would like it ifwe became friendly with Mr. Raymond, and I knew Aunt Alexandra wouldn’t.“Here,” he said, offering Dill his paper sack with straws in it. “Take a goodsip, it’ll quieten you.”Dill sucked on the straws, smiled, and pulled at length.“Hee hee,” said Mr. Raymond, evidently taking delight in corrupting a child.“Dill, you watch out, now,” I warned.Dill released the straws and grinned. “Scout, it’s nothing but Coca-Cola.”Mr. Raymond sat up against the tree-trunk. He had been lying on the grass.“You little folks won’t tell on me now, will you? It’d ruin my reputation if youdid.”“You mean all you drink in that sack’s Coca-Cola? Just plain Coca-Cola?”“Yes ma’am,” Mr. Raymond nodded. I liked his smell: it was of leather,horses, cottonseed. He wore the only English riding boots I had ever seen.“That’s all I drink, most of the time.”“Then you just pretend you’re half—? I beg your pardon, sir,” I caughtmyself. “I didn’t mean to be—”Mr. Raymond chuckled, not at all offended, and I tried to frame a discreetquestion: “Why do you do like you do?”“Wh—oh yes, you mean why do I pretend? Well, it’s very simple,” he said.“Some folks don’t—like the way I live. Now I could say the hell with ‘em, Idon’t care if they don’t like it. I do say I don’t care if they don’t like it, rightenough—but I don’t say the hell with ’em, see?”Dill and I said, “No sir.”“I try to give ‘em a reason, you see. It helps folks if they can latch onto areason. When I come to town, which is seldom, if I weave a little and drink outof this sack, folks can say Dolphus Raymond’s in the clutches of whiskey—
- Page 143 and 144: you, didn’t they?”Atticus lower
- Page 145 and 146: correct to believe one’s mind inc
- Page 147 and 148: until we were in the shelter of the
- Page 149 and 150: pulled firmly down over their ears.
- Page 151 and 152: going home, but I was wrong. As the
- Page 153 and 154: She waited until Calpurnia was in t
- Page 155 and 156: said that’s the way his folks sig
- Page 157 and 158: “Then why does he do like that?
- Page 159 and 160: from long years of observation. Nor
- Page 161 and 162: what grounds, Judge Taylor said,
- Page 163 and 164: as you go in. She was pretty well b
- Page 165 and 166: finger marks on her gullet—”“
- Page 167 and 168: people turned around in the Negroes
- Page 169 and 170: Reverend Sykes’s black eyes were
- Page 171 and 172: “No, I mean her physical conditio
- Page 173 and 174: that he was a Christ-fearing man an
- Page 175 and 176: “Mr. Finch?”She nodded vigorous
- Page 177 and 178: you’ve already said before, but y
- Page 179 and 180: “Except when he’s drinking?”
- Page 181 and 182: good long look at you. Is this the
- Page 183 and 184: No answer.“Did you scream first a
- Page 185 and 186: 19Thomas Robinson reached around, r
- Page 187 and 188: Radley, who had not been out of the
- Page 189 and 190: on me.”“Jumped on you? Violentl
- Page 191 and 192: “Yes suh.”“What’d the nigge
- Page 193: “I says I was scared, suh.”“I
- Page 197 and 198: edged our way along the balcony rai
- Page 199 and 200: he swore out a warrant, no doubt si
- Page 201 and 202: 21She stopped shyly at the railing
- Page 203 and 204: “They moved around some when the
- Page 205 and 206: Atticus had stopped his tranquil jo
- Page 207 and 208: 22It was Jem’s turn to cry. His f
- Page 209 and 210: was, said she’da had the sheriff
- Page 211 and 212: “That’s something you’ll have
- Page 213 and 214: “What has happened?”“Nothing
- Page 215 and 216: world that makes men lose their hea
- Page 217 and 218: change his mind. “If we’d had t
- Page 219 and 220: enough of a problem to your father
- Page 221 and 222: of folks. Folks.”Jem turned aroun
- Page 223 and 224: . . who’da thought it . . . anybo
- Page 225 and 226: “I said to him, ‘Mr. Everett,
- Page 227 and 228: and the river. Aunt Alexandra had g
- Page 229 and 230: two good arms he’d have made it,
- Page 231 and 232: 25“Don’t do that, Scout. Set hi
- Page 233 and 234: foot hit the ground. “Like you’
- Page 235 and 236: 26School started, and so did our da
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- Page 239 and 240: know the answer.“But it’s okay
- Page 241 and 242: 27Things did settle down, after a f
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20
“Come on round here, son, I got something that’ll settle your stomach.”
As Mr. Dolphus Raymond was an evil man I accepted his invitation
reluctantly, but I followed Dill. Somehow, I didn’t think Atticus would like it if
we became friendly with Mr. Raymond, and I knew Aunt Alexandra wouldn’t.
“Here,” he said, offering Dill his paper sack with straws in it. “Take a good
sip, it’ll quieten you.”
Dill sucked on the straws, smiled, and pulled at length.
“Hee hee,” said Mr. Raymond, evidently taking delight in corrupting a child.
“Dill, you watch out, now,” I warned.
Dill released the straws and grinned. “Scout, it’s nothing but Coca-Cola.”
Mr. Raymond sat up against the tree-trunk. He had been lying on the grass.
“You little folks won’t tell on me now, will you? It’d ruin my reputation if you
did.”
“You mean all you drink in that sack’s Coca-Cola? Just plain Coca-Cola?”
“Yes ma’am,” Mr. Raymond nodded. I liked his smell: it was of leather,
horses, cottonseed. He wore the only English riding boots I had ever seen.
“That’s all I drink, most of the time.”
“Then you just pretend you’re half—? I beg your pardon, sir,” I caught
myself. “I didn’t mean to be—”
Mr. Raymond chuckled, not at all offended, and I tried to frame a discreet
question: “Why do you do like you do?”
“Wh—oh yes, you mean why do I pretend? Well, it’s very simple,” he said.
“Some folks don’t—like the way I live. Now I could say the hell with ‘em, I
don’t care if they don’t like it. I do say I don’t care if they don’t like it, right
enough—but I don’t say the hell with ’em, see?”
Dill and I said, “No sir.”
“I try to give ‘em a reason, you see. It helps folks if they can latch onto a
reason. When I come to town, which is seldom, if I weave a little and drink out
of this sack, folks can say Dolphus Raymond’s in the clutches of whiskey—
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