to-kill-a-mockingbird-by-harper-lee-pdf-free-download (1)
“How could they do it, how could they?”“I don’t know, but they did it. They’ve done it before and they did it tonightand they’ll do it again and when they do it—seems that only children weep.Good night.”But things are always better in the morning. Atticus rose at his usual ungodlyhour and was in the livingroom behind the Mobile Register when we stumbledin. Jem’s morning face posed the question his sleepy lips struggled to ask.“It’s not time to worry yet,” Atticus reassured him, as we went to thediningroom. “We’re not through yet. There’ll be an appeal, you can count onthat. Gracious alive, Cal, what’s all this?” He was staring at his breakfast plate.Calpurnia said, “Tom Robinson’s daddy sent you along this chicken thismorning. I fixed it.”“You tell him I’m proud to get it—bet they don’t have chicken for breakfast atthe White House. What are these?”“Rolls,” said Calpurnia. “Estelle down at the hotel sent ‘em.”Atticus looked up at her, puzzled, and she said, “You better step out here andsee what’s in the kitchen, Mr. Finch.”We followed him. The kitchen table was loaded with enough food to bury thefamily: hunks of salt pork, tomatoes, beans, even scuppernongs. Atticus grinnedwhen he found a jar of pickled pigs’ knuckles. “Reckon Aunty’ll let me eat thesein the diningroom?”Calpurnia said, “This was all ‘round the back steps when I got here thismorning. They—they ’preciate what you did, Mr. Finch. They—they aren’toversteppin‘ themselves, are they?”Atticus’s eyes filled with tears. He did not speak for a moment. “Tell themI’m very grateful,” he said. “Tell them—tell them they must never do this again.Times are too hard . . .”He left the kitchen, went in the diningroom and excused himself to AuntAlexandra, put on his hat and went to town.We heard Dill’s step in the hall, so Calpurnia left Atticus’s uneaten breakfaston the table. Between rabbit-bites Dill told us of Miss Rachel’s reaction to lastnight, which was: if a man like Atticus Finch wants to butt his head against astone wall it’s his head.“I’da got her told,” growled Dill, gnawing a chicken leg, “but she didn’t lookmuch like tellin‘ this morning. Said she was up half the night wonderin’ where I
was, said she’da had the sheriff after me but he was at the hearing.”“Dill, you’ve got to stop goin‘ off without tellin’ her,” said Jem. “It justaggravates her.”Dill sighed patiently. “I told her till I was blue in the face where I was goin‘—she’s just seein’ too many snakes in the closet. Bet that woman drinks a pint forbreakfast every morning—know she drinks two glasses full. Seen her.”“Don’t talk like that, Dill,” said Aunt Alexandra. “It’s not becoming to achild. It’s—cynical.”“I ain’t cynical, Miss Alexandra. Tellin‘ the truth’s not cynical, is it?”“The way you tell it, it is.”Jem’s eyes flashed at her, but he said to Dill, “Let’s go. You can take thatrunner with you.”When we went to the front porch, Miss Stephanie Crawford was busy telling itto Miss Maudie Atkinson and Mr. Avery. They looked around at us and went ontalking. Jem made a feral noise in his throat. I wished for a weapon.“I hate grown folks lookin‘ at you,” said Dill. “Makes you feel like you’vedone something.”Miss Maudie yelled for Jem Finch to come there.Jem groaned and heaved himself up from the swing. “We’ll go with you,” Dillsaid.Miss Stephanie’s nose quivered with curiosity. She wanted to know who allgave us permission to go to court—she didn’t see us but it was all over town thismorning that we were in the Colored balcony. Did Atticus put us up there as asort of—? Wasn’t it right close up there with all those—? Did Scout understandall the—? Didn’t it make us mad to see our daddy beat?“Hush, Stephanie.” Miss Maudie’s diction was deadly. “I’ve not got all themorning to pass on the porch—Jem Finch, I called to find out if you and yourcolleagues can eat some cake. Got up at five to make it, so you better say yes.Excuse us, Stephanie. Good morning, Mr. Avery.”There was a big cake and two little ones on Miss Maudie’s kitchen table.There should have been three little ones. It was not like Miss Maudie to forgetDill, and we must have shown it. But we understood when she cut from the bigcake and gave the slice to Jem.As we ate, we sensed that this was Miss Maudie’s way of saying that as far asshe was concerned, nothing had changed. She sat quietly in a kitchen chair,
- 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 and 194: “I says I was scared, suh.”“I
- Page 195 and 196: 20“Come on round here, son, I got
- 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: 22It was Jem’s turn to cry. His f
- 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
- Page 237 and 238: more deeply that the town children
- Page 239 and 240: know the answer.“But it’s okay
- Page 241 and 242: 27Things did settle down, after a f
- Page 243 and 244: assessment of these events. “That
- Page 245 and 246: took off his shoes until the hounds
- Page 247 and 248: 28The weather was unusually warm fo
- Page 249 and 250: Most of the county, it seemed, was
- Page 251 and 252: butterbeans entering on cue. She wa
- Page 253 and 254: We slowed to a crawl. I asked Jem h
- Page 255 and 256: The man was walking heavily and uns
- Page 257 and 258: worry, though, he’ll be as good a
was, said she’da had the sheriff after me but he was at the hearing.”
“Dill, you’ve got to stop goin‘ off without tellin’ her,” said Jem. “It just
aggravates her.”
Dill sighed patiently. “I told her till I was blue in the face where I was goin‘—
she’s just seein’ too many snakes in the closet. Bet that woman drinks a pint for
breakfast every morning—know she drinks two glasses full. Seen her.”
“Don’t talk like that, Dill,” said Aunt Alexandra. “It’s not becoming to a
child. It’s—cynical.”
“I ain’t cynical, Miss Alexandra. Tellin‘ the truth’s not cynical, is it?”
“The way you tell it, it is.”
Jem’s eyes flashed at her, but he said to Dill, “Let’s go. You can take that
runner with you.”
When we went to the front porch, Miss Stephanie Crawford was busy telling it
to Miss Maudie Atkinson and Mr. Avery. They looked around at us and went on
talking. Jem made a feral noise in his throat. I wished for a weapon.
“I hate grown folks lookin‘ at you,” said Dill. “Makes you feel like you’ve
done something.”
Miss Maudie yelled for Jem Finch to come there.
Jem groaned and heaved himself up from the swing. “We’ll go with you,” Dill
said.
Miss Stephanie’s nose quivered with curiosity. She wanted to know who all
gave us permission to go to court—she didn’t see us but it was all over town this
morning that we were in the Colored balcony. Did Atticus put us up there as a
sort of—? Wasn’t it right close up there with all those—? Did Scout understand
all the—? Didn’t it make us mad to see our daddy beat?
“Hush, Stephanie.” Miss Maudie’s diction was deadly. “I’ve not got all the
morning to pass on the porch—Jem Finch, I called to find out if you and your
colleagues can eat some cake. Got up at five to make it, so you better say yes.
Excuse us, Stephanie. Good morning, Mr. Avery.”
There was a big cake and two little ones on Miss Maudie’s kitchen table.
There should have been three little ones. It was not like Miss Maudie to forget
Dill, and we must have shown it. But we understood when she cut from the big
cake and gave the slice to Jem.
As we ate, we sensed that this was Miss Maudie’s way of saying that as far as
she was concerned, nothing had changed. She sat quietly in a kitchen chair,
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