“Well, in the first place, you stopped to gimme a chance to tell you my side of it- you just lit right into me. When Jem an' I fuss Atticus doesn't ever listen to just Jem's side of it, he hears mine too”

“Jem,” he said, “are you responsible for this?” “Yes sir.” “Why’d you do it?” Jem said softly, “She said you lawed for niggers and trash.” “You did this because she said that?” Jem’s lips moved, but his, “Yes sir,” was inaudible. “Son, I have no doubt that you’ve been annoyed by your contemporaries about me lawing for niggers, as you say, but to do something like this to a sick old lady is inexcusable. I strongly advise you to go down and have a talk with Mrs. Dubose,” said Atticus. “Come straight home afterward.” Jem did not move. “Go on, I said.” I followed Jem out of the livingroom. “Come back here,” Atticus said to me. I came back. Atticus picked up the Mobile Press and sat down in the rocking chair Jem had vacated. For the life of me, I did not understand how he could sit there in cold blood and read a newspaper when his only son stood an excellent chance of being murdered with a Confederate Army relic. Of course Jem antagonized me sometimes until I could kill him, but when it came down to it he was all I had. Atticus did not seem to realize this, or if he did he didn’t care. I hated him for that, but when you are in trouble you become easily tired: soon I was hiding in his lap and his arms were around me. “You’re mighty big to be rocked,” he said. “You don’t care what happens to him,” I said. “You just send him on to get shot at when all he was doin‘ was standin’ up for you.” Atticus pushed my head under his chin. “It’s not time to worry yet,” he said.”

“Jem also told me that if I breathed a word to Atticus, if in any way I let Atticus know I knew, Jem would personally never speak to me again.”

“Well, did you know he's the best checker-player in this town? Why, down at the Landing when we were coming up, Atticus Finch could beat everybody on both sides of the river." "Miss Maudie, Jem and me beat him all the time." "It's about time you found out it's because he lets you. Did you know he can play a Jew's Harp?”

“I was too surprised to cry. I crept from Jem’s room and shut the door softly, lest undue noise set him off again. Suddenly tired, I wanted Atticus. He was in the livingroom, and I went to him and tried to get in his lap. Atticus smiled. “You’re getting so big now, I’ll just have to hold a part of you.” He held me close. “Scout,” he said softly, “don’t let Jem get you down. He’s having a rough time these days. I heard you back there.” Atticus said that Jem was trying hard to forget something, but what he was really doing was storing it away for a while, until enough time passed. Then he would be able to think about it and sort things out. When he was able to think about it, Jem would be himself again.”

“Will’s voice dropped. “Everyone makes mistakes, Jem.”“Yes,” said Jem. “You just make more of them than most people.”“I —”“You hurt everyone,” said Jem. “Everyone whose life you touch.”“Not you,” Will whispered. “I hurt everyone but you. I never meant tohurt you.”Jem put his hands up, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Will —”“You can’t never forgive me,” Will said in disbelief, hearing thepanic tinging his own voice. “I’d be —”“Alone?” Jem lowered his hand, but he was smiling now, crookedly. “Andwhose fault is that?”