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Mr
.
Cunningham
wore
no
hat
,
and
the
top
half
of
his
forehead
was
white
in
contrast
to
his
sunscorched
face
,
which
led
me
to
believe
that
he
wore
one
most
days
.
He
shifted
his
feet
,
clad
in
heavy
work
shoes
.
"
Don
’
t
you
remember
me
,
Mr
.
Cunningham
?
I
’
m
Jean
Louise
Finch
.
You
brought
us
some
hickory
nuts
one
time
,
remember
?
"
I
began
to
sense
the
futility
one
feels
when
unacknowledged
by
a
chance
acquaintance
.
"
I
go
to
school
with
Walter
,
"
I
began
again
.
"
He
’
s
your
boy
,
ain
’
t
he
?
Ain
’
t
he
,
sir
?
"
Mr
.
Cunningham
was
moved
to
a
faint
nod
.
He
did
know
me
,
after
all
.
"
He
’
s
in
my
grade
,
"
I
said
,
"
and
he
does
right
well
.
He
’
s
a
good
boy
,
"
I
added
,
"
a
real
nice
boy
.
We
brought
him
home
for
dinner
one
time
.
Maybe
he
told
you
about
me
,
I
beat
him
up
one
time
but
he
was
real
nice
about
it
.
Tell
him
hey
for
me
,
won
’
t
you
?
"
Atticus
had
said
it
was
the
polite
thing
to
talk
to
people
about
what
they
were
interested
in
,
not
about
what
you
were
interested
in
.
Mr
.
Cunningham
displayed
no
interest
in
his
son
,
so
I
tackled
his
entailment
once
more
in
a
last
-
ditch
effort
to
make
him
feel
at
home
.
"
Entailments
are
bad
,
"
I
was
advising
him
,
when
I
slowly
awoke
to
the
fact
that
I
was
addressing
the
entire
aggregation
.
The
men
were
all
looking
at
me
,
some
had
their
mouths
half
-
open
.
Atticus
had
stopped
poking
at
Jem
:
they
were
standing
together
beside
Dill
.
Their
attention
amounted
to
fascination
.
Atticus
’
s
mouth
,
even
,
was
half
-
open
,
an
attitude
he
had
once
described
as
uncouth
.
Our
eyes
met
and
he
shut
it
.
"
Well
,
Atticus
,
I
was
just
sayin
’
to
Mr
.
Cunningham
that
entailments
are
bad
an
’
all
that
,
but
you
said
not
to
worry
,
it
takes
a
long
time
sometimes
.
.
.
that
you
all
’
d
ride
it
out
together
.
.
.
"
I
was
slowly
drying
up
,
wondering
what
idiocy
I
had
committed
.
Entailments
seemed
all
right
enough
for
livingroom
talk
.
