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I
spat
it
out
.
The
tang
was
fading
,
anyway
.
"
I
’
ve
been
chewin
’
it
all
afternoon
and
I
ain
’
t
dead
yet
,
not
even
sick
.
"
Jem
stamped
his
foot
.
"
Don
’
t
you
know
you
’
re
not
supposed
to
even
touch
the
trees
over
there
?
You
’
ll
get
killed
if
you
do
!
"
"
You
touched
the
house
once
!
"
"
That
was
different
!
You
go
gargle
—
right
now
,
you
hear
me
?
"
"
Ain
’
t
neither
,
it
’
ll
take
the
taste
outa
my
mouth
.
"
"
You
don
’
t
‘
n
’
I
’
ll
tell
Calpurnia
on
you
!
"
Rather
than
risk
a
tangle
with
Calpurnia
,
I
did
as
Jem
told
me
.
For
some
reason
,
my
first
year
of
school
had
wrought
a
great
change
in
our
relationship
:
Calpurnia
’
s
tyranny
,
unfairness
,
and
meddling
in
my
business
had
faded
to
gentle
grumblings
of
general
disapproval
.
On
my
part
,
I
went
to
much
trouble
,
sometimes
,
not
to
provoke
her
.
Summer
was
on
the
way
;
Jem
and
I
awaited
it
with
impatience
.
Summer
was
our
best
season
:
it
was
sleeping
on
the
back
screened
porch
in
cots
,
or
trying
to
sleep
in
the
treehouse
;
summer
was
everything
good
to
eat
;
it
was
a
thousand
colors
in
a
parched
landscape
;
but
most
of
all
,
summer
was
Dill
.
The
authorities
released
us
early
the
last
day
of
school
,
and
Jem
and
I
walked
home
together
.
"
Reckon
old
Dill
’
ll
be
coming
home
tomorrow
,
"
I
said
.
"
Probably
day
after
,
"
said
Jem
.
"
Mis
’
sippi
turns
‘
em
loose
a
day
later
.
"
