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A
roly
-
poly
had
found
his
way
inside
the
house
;
I
reasoned
that
the
tiny
varmint
had
crawled
up
the
steps
and
under
the
door
.
I
was
putting
my
book
on
the
floor
beside
my
cot
when
I
saw
him
.
The
creatures
are
no
more
than
an
inch
long
,
and
when
you
touch
them
they
roll
themselves
into
a
tight
gray
ball
.
I
lay
on
my
stomach
,
reached
down
and
poked
him
.
He
rolled
up
.
Then
,
feeling
safe
,
I
suppose
,
he
slowly
unrolled
.
He
traveled
a
few
inches
on
his
hundred
legs
and
I
touched
him
again
.
He
rolled
up
.
Feeling
sleepy
,
I
decided
to
end
things
.
My
hand
was
going
down
on
him
when
Jem
spoke
.
Jem
was
scowling
.
It
was
probably
a
part
of
the
stage
he
was
going
through
,
and
I
wished
he
would
hurry
up
and
get
through
it
.
He
was
certainly
never
cruel
to
animals
,
but
I
had
never
known
his
charity
to
embrace
the
insect
world
.
"
Why
couldn
’
t
I
mash
him
?
"
I
asked
.
"
Because
they
don
’
t
bother
you
,
"
Jem
answered
in
the
darkness
.
He
had
turned
out
his
reading
light
.
"
Reckon
you
’
re
at
the
stage
now
where
you
don
’
t
kill
flies
and
mosquitoes
now
,
I
reckon
,
"
I
said
.
"
Lemme
know
when
you
change
your
mind
.
Tell
you
one
thing
,
though
,
I
ain
’
t
gonna
sit
around
and
not
scratch
a
redbug
.
"
"
Aw
dry
up
,
"
he
answered
drowsily
.
Jem
was
the
one
who
was
getting
more
like
a
girl
every
day
,
not
I
.
Comfortable
,
I
lay
on
my
back
and
waited
for
sleep
,
and
while
waiting
I
thought
of
Dill
.
He
had
left
us
the
first
of
the
month
with
firm
urances
that
he
would
return
the
minute
school
was
out
—
he
guessed
his
folks
had
got
the
general
idea
that
he
liked
to
spend
his
summers
in
Maycomb
.
Miss
Rachel
took
us
with
them
in
the
taxi
to
Maycomb
Junction
,
and
Dill
waved
to
us
from
the
train
window
until
he
was
out
of
sight
.
He
was
not
out
of
mind
:
I
missed
him
.
The
last
two
days
of
his
time
with
us
,
Jem
had
taught
him
to
swim
—
Taught
him
to
swim
.
I
was
wide
awake
,
remembering
what
Dill
had
told
me
.
