to-kill-a-mockingbird-by-harper-lee-pdf-free-download (1)
said, “I forgot my shoes, they’re back behind the stage.”“Well let’s go get ‘em.” But as we turned around the auditorium lights wentoff. “You can get ’em tomorrow,” he said.“But tomorrow’s Sunday,” I protested, as Jem turned me homeward.“You can get the Janitor to let you in . . . Scout?”“Hm?”“Nothing.”Jem hadn’t started that in a long time. I wondered what he was thinking. He’dtell me when he wanted to, probably when we got home. I felt his fingers pressthe top of my costume, too hard, it seemed. I shook my head. “Jem, you don’thafta—”“Hush a minute, Scout,” he said, pinching me.We walked along silently. “Minute’s up,” I said. “Whatcha thinkin‘ about?” Iturned to look at him, but his outline was barely visible.“Thought I heard something,” he said. “Stop a minute.”We stopped.“Hear anything?” he asked.“No.”We had not gone five paces before he made me stop again.“Jem, are you tryin‘ to scare me? You know I’m too old—”“Be quiet,” he said, and I knew he was not joking.The night was still. I could hear his breath coming easily beside me.Occasionally there was a sudden breeze that hit my bare legs, but it was all thatremained of a promised windy night. This was the stillness before athunderstorm. We listened.“Heard an old dog just then,” I said.“It’s not that,” Jem answered. “I hear it when we’re walkin‘ along, but whenwe stop I don’t hear it.”“You hear my costume rustlin‘. Aw, it’s just Halloween got you . . .”I said it more to convince myself than Jem, for sure enough, as we beganwalking, I heard what he was talking about. It was not my costume.“It’s just old Cecil,” said Jem presently. “He won’t get us again. Let’s don’tlet him think we’re hurrying.”
We slowed to a crawl. I asked Jem how Cecil could follow us in this dark,looked to me like he’d bump into us from behind.“I can see you, Scout,” Jem said.“How? I can’t see you.”“Your fat streaks are showin‘. Mrs. Crenshaw painted ’em with some of thatshiny stuff so they’d show up under the footlights. I can see you pretty well, an‘I expect Cecil can see you well enough to keep his distance.”I would show Cecil that we knew he was behind us and we were ready forhim. “Cecil Jacobs is a big wet he-en!” I yelled suddenly, turning around.We stopped. There was no acknowledgement save he-en bouncing off thedistant schoolhouse wall.“I’ll get him,” said Jem. “He-y!”Hay-e-hay-e-hay-ey, answered the schoolhouse wall. It was unlike Cecil tohold out for so long; once he pulled a joke he’d repeat it time and again. Weshould have been leapt at already. Jem signaled for me to stop again.He said softly, “Scout, can you take that thing off?”“I think so, but I ain’t got anything on under it much.”“I’ve got your dress here.”“I can’t get it on in the dark.”“Okay,” he said, “never mind.”“Jem, are you afraid?”“No. Think we’re almost to the tree now. Few yards from that, an‘ we’ll be tothe road. We can see the street light then.” Jem was talking in an unhurried, flattoneless voice. I wondered how long he would try to keep the Cecil myth going.“You reckon we oughta sing, Jem?”“No. Be real quiet again, Scout.”We had not increased our pace. Jem knew as well as I that it was difficult towalk fast without stumping a toe, tripping on stones, and other inconveniences,and I was barefooted. Maybe it was the wind rustling the trees. But there wasn’tany wind and there weren’t any trees except the big oak.Our company shuffled and dragged his feet, as if wearing heavy shoes.Whoever it was wore thick cotton pants; what I thought were trees rustling wasthe soft swish of cotton on cotton, wheek, wheek, with every step.I felt the sand go cold under my feet and I knew we were near the big oak.
- 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
- 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: butterbeans entering on cue. She wa
- Page 255 and 256: The man was walking heavily and uns
- Page 257 and 258: worry, though, he’ll be as good a
- Page 259 and 260: 29Aunt Alexandra got up and reached
- Page 261 and 262: wire. “Bob Ewell meant business,
- Page 263 and 264: 30“Mr. Arthur, honey,” said Att
- Page 265 and 266: floorboards it seemed that they gre
- Page 267 and 268: “Heck,” said Atticus abruptly,
- Page 269 and 270: 31When Boo Radley shuffled to his f
- Page 271 and 272: latest to Miss Rachel. Miss Maudie
- Page 273: He turned out the light and went in
We slowed to a crawl. I asked Jem how Cecil could follow us in this dark,
looked to me like he’d bump into us from behind.
“I can see you, Scout,” Jem said.
“How? I can’t see you.”
“Your fat streaks are showin‘. Mrs. Crenshaw painted ’em with some of that
shiny stuff so they’d show up under the footlights. I can see you pretty well, an‘
I expect Cecil can see you well enough to keep his distance.”
I would show Cecil that we knew he was behind us and we were ready for
him. “Cecil Jacobs is a big wet he-en!” I yelled suddenly, turning around.
We stopped. There was no acknowledgement save he-en bouncing off the
distant schoolhouse wall.
“I’ll get him,” said Jem. “He-y!”
Hay-e-hay-e-hay-ey, answered the schoolhouse wall. It was unlike Cecil to
hold out for so long; once he pulled a joke he’d repeat it time and again. We
should have been leapt at already. Jem signaled for me to stop again.
He said softly, “Scout, can you take that thing off?”
“I think so, but I ain’t got anything on under it much.”
“I’ve got your dress here.”
“I can’t get it on in the dark.”
“Okay,” he said, “never mind.”
“Jem, are you afraid?”
“No. Think we’re almost to the tree now. Few yards from that, an‘ we’ll be to
the road. We can see the street light then.” Jem was talking in an unhurried, flat
toneless voice. I wondered how long he would try to keep the Cecil myth going.
“You reckon we oughta sing, Jem?”
“No. Be real quiet again, Scout.”
We had not increased our pace. Jem knew as well as I that it was difficult to
walk fast without stumping a toe, tripping on stones, and other inconveniences,
and I was barefooted. Maybe it was the wind rustling the trees. But there wasn’t
any wind and there weren’t any trees except the big oak.
Our company shuffled and dragged his feet, as if wearing heavy shoes.
Whoever it was wore thick cotton pants; what I thought were trees rustling was
the soft swish of cotton on cotton, wheek, wheek, with every step.
I felt the sand go cold under my feet and I knew we were near the big oak.
Change language