We had two weeks of the coldest weather since 1885, Atticus said. Mr. Avery said it was written on the Rosetta Stone that when children disobeyed their parents, smoked cigarettes and made war on each other, the seasons would change: Scout and I were burdened with the guilt of contributing to the aberrations of nature, thereby causing unhappiness to our neighbors and discomfort to ourselves.
Old Mrs. Radley died that winter, but her death caused hardly a ripple- the neighborhood seldom saw her, except when she watered her cannas. Scout and I decided that Boo had got her at last, but when Atticus returned from the Radley house he said she died of natural causes, to our disappointment.
“Ask him,” I whispered.
“You ask him, you’re the oldest,” said Scout.
“That’s why you oughta ask him,” I said.
“Atticus,” Scout said, “did you see Mr. Arthur?”
Atticus looked sternly around his newspaper at Scout: “I did not.”
I restrained Scout from further questions. I told her that Atticus was still touchous about us and the Radleys and it wouldn’t do to push him any. I had a notion that Atticus thought our activities that night last summer were not solely confirmed to strip poker. I had no firm basis for my ideas; I said it was merely a twitch.
Next morning, it was snowing. I had never seen snow, but I knew what it was, Atticus said he didn’t know any more about snow than I did. “I think, though, if it’s watery like that, it’ll turn to rain.”
The telephone rang and Atticus left the breakfast table to answer it. “That was Eula May,” he said when he returned. “I quote-‘As it has not snowed in Maycomb County since 1885, there will be no school today.’ ”
Eula May was Maycomb’s leading telephone operator. She was entrusted with issuing public announcements, wedding invitations, setting off the fire siren, and giving first-aid instructions when Dr. Reynolds was away.
When Atticus finally called us to order and bade us look at our plates instead of out the windows, I asked, “How do you make a snowman?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Atticus. “I don’t want you all to be disappointed, but I doubt if there’ll be enough snow for a snowball, even.”
Scout and I went with Miss Maudie and asked her if we could borrow some of her snow and she said: “Heavens alive, take it all! There’s an old peach basket under the house, haul it off in that.”
Scout and I haul as much snow as we could from Miss Maudie’s yard to our own. Since there was still not enough snow to make a real snowman, Scout and I build a small figure out of dirt and covered it with snow. We made it look like Mr. Avery, an unpleasant man who lives down our street. When Atticus got home for dinner he saw our snowman and saw that the figure’s likeness to Mr. Avery was so strong that he demanded us to disguise it. I decided to place Miss Maudie’s sunhat on its head and stocked her hedge clippers in its hands. The snow stopped in the afternoon, the temperature dropped, and by nightfall Mr. Avery’s direst predictions came true: Calpurnia kept every fireplace in the house blazing, but we were cold. When Atticus came home that evening he said we were in for it, and asked Calpurnia if she wanted to stay with us for the night. Calpurnia glanced up at the high ceilings and long windows and said she thought she’d be warmer at her house. Atticus drove her home in the car.
Minutes later that I had fallen asleep I was woken up by Atticus. Then we both went to go wake up Scout.
“Baby, get up,” Atticus told Scout.
Atticus was holding out Scout’s bathrobe and coat. “Put your robe on first,” he said.
I was standing beside Atticus, holding my overcoat closed at the neck, my other hand was jammed into my pocket.
“Hurry, hon,” said Atticus. “Here’re your shoes and socks.”
“Whose is it?” said Scout.
“Miss Maudie’s, hon.” said Atticus gently.
At the front door, we saw fire spewing from Miss Maudie’s diningroom windows. As if to confirm what we saw, the town fire siren wailed up the scale to a treble pitch and remained there, screaming.
“It’s gone, ain’t it?” I moaned.
“I expect so,” said Atticus. “Now listen, both of you. Go down and stand in front of the Radley Place. Keep out of the way, do you hear? See which way the wind’s blowing?”
“Oh,” I said. “Atticus, reckon we oughta start moving the furniture out?”
“Not yet, son. Do as I tell you. Run now. Take care of Scout, you hear? Don’t let her out of sight.”
The old fire truck, killed by the cold, was being pushed from town by a crowd of men. When the men attached its hose to a hydrant, the hose burst and water shot up, tinkling down on the pavement.
“Oh-h Lord, Jem…” said Scout.
I put my arm around Scout. “Hush, Scout,” I said. “It ain’t time to worry yet. I’ll let you know when.”
Scout and I would see how the neighbors were trying to help save Miss Maudie’s furniture. Later, another fire truck appeared and stopped in front of Miss Stephanie Crawford’s. There was no hydrant for another hose, and the men tried to soak her house with hand extinguishers.
Miss Maudie’s tin roof quelled the flames. Roaring, the house collapsed; fire gushed everywhere, followed by a flurry of blankets from men on top of the adjacent houses, beating out sparks and burning chunks of wood. Once everything was over Scout, Atticus, and I went home. Atticus asked us if we wanted chocolate and Scout and I agreed. As we drank our cocoa Atticus began looking at Scout and then he asked her where she got the blanket she had on from. I looked at Scout and noticed that Scout had a brown woolen blanket.
Scout turned to me for an answer, but I was even more bewildered than her. I said I didn’t know how it got there, we did exactly as Atticus had told us, we stood down by the Radley gate away from everybody, we didn’t move an inch-I stopped.
“Mr. Nathan was at the fire,” I babbled, “I saw him, I saw him, he was tuggin’ that mattress-Atticus, I swear…”
“That’s all right, son.” Atticus grinned slowly. “Looks like all of Maycomb was out tonight, in one way or another Jem, there’s some wrapping paper in the pantry, I think. Go get it and we’ll-”
“Atticus, no sir!” I said.
Suddenly, I began pouring out our secrets right and left in total disregard, omitting nothing, knot-hole, pants and all.
“…Mr. Nathan put cement in that tree, Atticus, an’ he did it to stop us findin’ things-he’s crazy, I reckon, like they say, but Atticus, I swear to God he ain’t ever harmed us, he ain’t ever hurt us, Atticus-”
Atticus said, “Whoa, son.”
“You’re right. We’d better keep this and the blanket to ourselves. Somebody, maybe, Scout can thank him for covering her up.”
“Thank who?” Scout asked.
“Boo Radley. You were so busy looking at the fire you didn’t know it when he put the blanket around you”
Next day, despite having lost her house, Miss Maudie was cheerful.
“Atticus told me on his way to town this morning. Tell you the truth, I’d like to’ve been with you. And I’d’ve had sense enough to turn around too," Miss Mauduie said. Miss Maudie puzzled Scout and I. With most of her possessions gone and her beloved yard a shambles, she still took a lively and cordial interest in Scout and my affairs.
She must have seen Scout’s perplexity. She said, “ Only thing I worried about last night was all the danger and commotion it caused. This whole neighborhood could have gone up. Mr. Avery’ll be in bed for a week- he’s right stove up. He’s too old to do things like that and I told him so. Soon as I can get my hands clean and when Stephanie Crawford’s not looking, I’ll make him a Lane cake. That Stephanie’s been after my recipe for thirty years, and if she thinks I’ll give it to her just because I’m staying with her she’s got another think coming.”
At school, Scout nearly starts a fight with a classmate named Cecil Jacobs after Cecil declares that Atticus defends niggers. Atticus has been asked to defend Tom Robinson, a black man accused of raping a white woman. It is a case he cannot hope to win, but he tells Scout that he must argue it to uphold his sense of justice and self-respect.
At Christmastime, Atticus's brother, Jack, comes to stay with Atticus for a week during the holidays. Scout generally gets along well with Uncle Jack, but when he arrives in Maycomb, she begins cursing in front of him (a habit that she has recently picked up). On Christmas Day, Atticus took Scout and I and Jack to Finch's Landing, a rambling old house in the country where Atticus's sister, Alexandra, and her husband live. There, Scout endures Francis, Alexandra's grandson, who had been dropped off at Finch's Landing for the holiday. Scout thinks Francis is the most “boring” child she has ever met. He is a year older than Scout and she avoids him on principle: he enjoyed everything she disapproved of, and disliked her indigenous diversions. She also has to put up with the prim and proper Alexandra, who was fanatical on the subject of Scout’s attire and insists that Scout dress like a lady instead of wearing pants.
One night, Francis told Scout that Dill was a runt and then called Atticus a “nigger-lover.” Scout curses him and beats him up. Later, Francis told Alexandra and Uncle Jack that Scout hit him, and Uncle Jack spanked her without hearing her side of the story. After we return to Maycomb, Scout told Jack what Francis said and Jack becomes furious. Scout makes him promise not to tell Atticus, however, because Atticus had asked her not to fight anyone over what is said about him. Jack promises and keeps his word.
Old Mrs. Radley died that winter, but her death caused hardly a ripple- the neighborhood seldom saw her, except when she watered her cannas. Scout and I decided that Boo had got her at last, but when Atticus returned from the Radley house he said she died of natural causes, to our disappointment.
“Ask him,” I whispered.
“You ask him, you’re the oldest,” said Scout.
“That’s why you oughta ask him,” I said.
“Atticus,” Scout said, “did you see Mr. Arthur?”
Atticus looked sternly around his newspaper at Scout: “I did not.”
I restrained Scout from further questions. I told her that Atticus was still touchous about us and the Radleys and it wouldn’t do to push him any. I had a notion that Atticus thought our activities that night last summer were not solely confirmed to strip poker. I had no firm basis for my ideas; I said it was merely a twitch.
Next morning, it was snowing. I had never seen snow, but I knew what it was, Atticus said he didn’t know any more about snow than I did. “I think, though, if it’s watery like that, it’ll turn to rain.”
The telephone rang and Atticus left the breakfast table to answer it. “That was Eula May,” he said when he returned. “I quote-‘As it has not snowed in Maycomb County since 1885, there will be no school today.’ ”
Eula May was Maycomb’s leading telephone operator. She was entrusted with issuing public announcements, wedding invitations, setting off the fire siren, and giving first-aid instructions when Dr. Reynolds was away.
When Atticus finally called us to order and bade us look at our plates instead of out the windows, I asked, “How do you make a snowman?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Atticus. “I don’t want you all to be disappointed, but I doubt if there’ll be enough snow for a snowball, even.”
Scout and I went with Miss Maudie and asked her if we could borrow some of her snow and she said: “Heavens alive, take it all! There’s an old peach basket under the house, haul it off in that.”
Scout and I haul as much snow as we could from Miss Maudie’s yard to our own. Since there was still not enough snow to make a real snowman, Scout and I build a small figure out of dirt and covered it with snow. We made it look like Mr. Avery, an unpleasant man who lives down our street. When Atticus got home for dinner he saw our snowman and saw that the figure’s likeness to Mr. Avery was so strong that he demanded us to disguise it. I decided to place Miss Maudie’s sunhat on its head and stocked her hedge clippers in its hands. The snow stopped in the afternoon, the temperature dropped, and by nightfall Mr. Avery’s direst predictions came true: Calpurnia kept every fireplace in the house blazing, but we were cold. When Atticus came home that evening he said we were in for it, and asked Calpurnia if she wanted to stay with us for the night. Calpurnia glanced up at the high ceilings and long windows and said she thought she’d be warmer at her house. Atticus drove her home in the car.
Minutes later that I had fallen asleep I was woken up by Atticus. Then we both went to go wake up Scout.
“Baby, get up,” Atticus told Scout.
Atticus was holding out Scout’s bathrobe and coat. “Put your robe on first,” he said.
I was standing beside Atticus, holding my overcoat closed at the neck, my other hand was jammed into my pocket.
“Hurry, hon,” said Atticus. “Here’re your shoes and socks.”
“Whose is it?” said Scout.
“Miss Maudie’s, hon.” said Atticus gently.
At the front door, we saw fire spewing from Miss Maudie’s diningroom windows. As if to confirm what we saw, the town fire siren wailed up the scale to a treble pitch and remained there, screaming.
“It’s gone, ain’t it?” I moaned.
“I expect so,” said Atticus. “Now listen, both of you. Go down and stand in front of the Radley Place. Keep out of the way, do you hear? See which way the wind’s blowing?”
“Oh,” I said. “Atticus, reckon we oughta start moving the furniture out?”
“Not yet, son. Do as I tell you. Run now. Take care of Scout, you hear? Don’t let her out of sight.”
The old fire truck, killed by the cold, was being pushed from town by a crowd of men. When the men attached its hose to a hydrant, the hose burst and water shot up, tinkling down on the pavement.
“Oh-h Lord, Jem…” said Scout.
I put my arm around Scout. “Hush, Scout,” I said. “It ain’t time to worry yet. I’ll let you know when.”
Scout and I would see how the neighbors were trying to help save Miss Maudie’s furniture. Later, another fire truck appeared and stopped in front of Miss Stephanie Crawford’s. There was no hydrant for another hose, and the men tried to soak her house with hand extinguishers.
Miss Maudie’s tin roof quelled the flames. Roaring, the house collapsed; fire gushed everywhere, followed by a flurry of blankets from men on top of the adjacent houses, beating out sparks and burning chunks of wood. Once everything was over Scout, Atticus, and I went home. Atticus asked us if we wanted chocolate and Scout and I agreed. As we drank our cocoa Atticus began looking at Scout and then he asked her where she got the blanket she had on from. I looked at Scout and noticed that Scout had a brown woolen blanket.
Scout turned to me for an answer, but I was even more bewildered than her. I said I didn’t know how it got there, we did exactly as Atticus had told us, we stood down by the Radley gate away from everybody, we didn’t move an inch-I stopped.
“Mr. Nathan was at the fire,” I babbled, “I saw him, I saw him, he was tuggin’ that mattress-Atticus, I swear…”
“That’s all right, son.” Atticus grinned slowly. “Looks like all of Maycomb was out tonight, in one way or another Jem, there’s some wrapping paper in the pantry, I think. Go get it and we’ll-”
“Atticus, no sir!” I said.
Suddenly, I began pouring out our secrets right and left in total disregard, omitting nothing, knot-hole, pants and all.
“…Mr. Nathan put cement in that tree, Atticus, an’ he did it to stop us findin’ things-he’s crazy, I reckon, like they say, but Atticus, I swear to God he ain’t ever harmed us, he ain’t ever hurt us, Atticus-”
Atticus said, “Whoa, son.”
“You’re right. We’d better keep this and the blanket to ourselves. Somebody, maybe, Scout can thank him for covering her up.”
“Thank who?” Scout asked.
“Boo Radley. You were so busy looking at the fire you didn’t know it when he put the blanket around you”
Next day, despite having lost her house, Miss Maudie was cheerful.
“Atticus told me on his way to town this morning. Tell you the truth, I’d like to’ve been with you. And I’d’ve had sense enough to turn around too," Miss Mauduie said. Miss Maudie puzzled Scout and I. With most of her possessions gone and her beloved yard a shambles, she still took a lively and cordial interest in Scout and my affairs.
She must have seen Scout’s perplexity. She said, “ Only thing I worried about last night was all the danger and commotion it caused. This whole neighborhood could have gone up. Mr. Avery’ll be in bed for a week- he’s right stove up. He’s too old to do things like that and I told him so. Soon as I can get my hands clean and when Stephanie Crawford’s not looking, I’ll make him a Lane cake. That Stephanie’s been after my recipe for thirty years, and if she thinks I’ll give it to her just because I’m staying with her she’s got another think coming.”
At school, Scout nearly starts a fight with a classmate named Cecil Jacobs after Cecil declares that Atticus defends niggers. Atticus has been asked to defend Tom Robinson, a black man accused of raping a white woman. It is a case he cannot hope to win, but he tells Scout that he must argue it to uphold his sense of justice and self-respect.
At Christmastime, Atticus's brother, Jack, comes to stay with Atticus for a week during the holidays. Scout generally gets along well with Uncle Jack, but when he arrives in Maycomb, she begins cursing in front of him (a habit that she has recently picked up). On Christmas Day, Atticus took Scout and I and Jack to Finch's Landing, a rambling old house in the country where Atticus's sister, Alexandra, and her husband live. There, Scout endures Francis, Alexandra's grandson, who had been dropped off at Finch's Landing for the holiday. Scout thinks Francis is the most “boring” child she has ever met. He is a year older than Scout and she avoids him on principle: he enjoyed everything she disapproved of, and disliked her indigenous diversions. She also has to put up with the prim and proper Alexandra, who was fanatical on the subject of Scout’s attire and insists that Scout dress like a lady instead of wearing pants.
One night, Francis told Scout that Dill was a runt and then called Atticus a “nigger-lover.” Scout curses him and beats him up. Later, Francis told Alexandra and Uncle Jack that Scout hit him, and Uncle Jack spanked her without hearing her side of the story. After we return to Maycomb, Scout told Jack what Francis said and Jack becomes furious. Scout makes him promise not to tell Atticus, however, because Atticus had asked her not to fight anyone over what is said about him. Jack promises and keeps his word.
