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"
Miss
Jean
Louise
,
stand
up
.
Your
father
’
s
passin
’
.
"
It
was
Jem
’
s
turn
to
cry
.
His
face
was
streaked
with
angry
tears
as
we
made
our
way
through
the
cheerful
crowd
.
"
It
ain
’
t
right
,
"
he
muttered
,
all
the
way
to
the
corner
of
the
square
where
we
found
Atticus
waiting
.
Atticus
was
standing
under
the
street
light
looking
as
though
nothing
had
happened
:
his
vest
was
buttoned
,
his
collar
and
tie
were
neatly
in
place
,
his
watch
-
chain
glistened
,
he
was
his
impassive
self
again
.
"
It
ain
’
t
right
,
Atticus
,
"
said
Jem
.
"
No
son
,
it
’
s
not
right
.
"
We
walked
home
.
Aunt
Alexandra
was
waiting
up
.
She
was
in
her
dressing
gown
,
and
I
could
have
sworn
she
had
on
her
corset
underneath
it
.
"
I
’
m
sorry
,
brother
,
"
she
murmured
.
Having
never
heard
her
call
Atticus
"
brother
"
before
,
I
stole
a
glance
at
Jem
,
but
he
was
not
listening
.
He
would
look
up
at
Atticus
,
then
down
at
the
floor
,
and
I
wondered
if
he
thought
Atticus
somehow
responsible
for
Tom
Robinson
’
s
conviction
.
"
Is
he
all
right
?
"
Aunty
asked
,
indicating
Jem
.
"
He
’
ll
be
so
presently
,
"
said
Atticus
.
"
It
was
a
little
too
strong
for
him
.
"
Our
father
sighed
.
"
I
’
m
going
to
bed
,
"
he
said
.
"
If
I
don
’
t
wake
up
in
the
morning
,
don
’
t
call
me
.
"
"
I
didn
’
t
think
it
wise
in
the
first
place
to
let
them
—
"
"
This
is
their
home
,
sister
,
"
said
Atticus
.
"
We
’
ve
made
it
this
way
for
them
,
they
might
as
well
learn
to
cope
with
it
.
"
