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"
Okay
,
"
I
said
,
quite
content
with
thirty
cents
and
Cecil
.
I
went
with
Cecil
down
to
the
front
of
the
auditorium
,
through
a
door
on
one
side
,
and
backstage
.
I
got
rid
of
my
ham
costume
and
departed
in
a
hurry
,
for
Mrs
.
Merriweather
was
standing
at
a
lectern
in
front
of
the
first
row
of
seats
making
last
-
minute
,
frenzied
changes
in
the
script
.
"
How
much
money
you
got
?
"
I
asked
Cecil
.
Cecil
had
thirty
cents
,
too
,
which
made
us
even
.
We
squandered
our
first
nickels
on
the
House
of
Horrors
,
which
scared
us
not
at
all
;
we
entered
the
black
seventh
-
grade
room
and
were
led
around
by
the
temporary
ghoul
in
residence
and
were
made
to
touch
several
objects
alleged
to
be
component
parts
of
a
human
being
.
"
Here
’
s
his
eyes
,
"
we
were
told
when
we
touched
two
peeled
grapes
on
a
saucer
.
"
Here
’
s
his
heart
,
"
which
felt
like
raw
liver
.
"
These
are
his
innards
,
"
and
our
hands
were
thrust
into
a
plate
of
cold
spaghetti
.
Cecil
and
I
visited
several
booths
.
We
each
bought
a
sack
of
Mrs
.
Judge
Taylor
’
s
homemade
divinity
.
I
wanted
to
bob
for
apples
,
but
Cecil
said
it
wasn
’
t
sanitary
.
His
mother
said
he
might
catch
something
from
everybody
’
s
heads
having
been
in
the
same
tub
.
"
Ain
’
t
anything
around
town
now
to
catch
,
"
I
protested
.
But
Cecil
said
his
mother
said
it
was
unsanitary
to
eat
after
folks
.
I
later
asked
Aunt
Alexandra
about
this
,
and
she
said
people
who
held
such
views
were
usually
climbers
.
We
were
about
to
purchase
a
blob
of
taffy
when
Mrs
.
Merriweather
’
s
runners
appeared
and
told
us
to
go
backstage
,
it
was
time
to
get
ready
.
The
auditorium
was
filling
with
people
;
the
Maycomb
County
High
School
band
had
embled
in
front
below
the
stage
;
the
stage
footlights
were
on
and
the
red
velvet
curtain
rippled
and
billowed
from
the
scurrying
going
on
behind
it
.
Backstage
,
Cecil
and
I
found
the
narrow
hallway
teeming
with
people
:
adults
in
homemade
three
-
corner
hats
,
Confederate
caps
,
Spanish
-
American
War
hats
,
and
World
War
helmets
.
Children
dressed
as
various
agricultural
enterprises
crowded
around
the
one
small
window
.
"
Somebody
’
s
mashed
my
costume
,
"
I
wailed
in
dismay
.
Mrs
.
Merriweather
galloped
to
me
,
reshaped
the
chicken
wire
,
and
thrust
me
inside
.
"
You
all
right
in
there
,
Scout
?
"
asked
Cecil
.
"
You
sound
so
far
off
,
like
you
was
on
the
other
side
of
a
hill
.
"
"
You
don
’
t
sound
any
nearer
,
"
I
said
.
The
band
played
the
national
anthem
,
and
we
heard
the
audience
rise
.
Then
the
bass
drum
sounded
.
Mrs
.
Merriweather
,
stationed
behind
her
lectern
beside
the
band
,
said
:
"
Maycomb
County
Ad
Astra
Per
Aspera
.
"
The
bass
drum
boomed
again
.
"
That
means
,
"
said
Mrs
.
Merriweather
,
translating
for
the
rustic
elements
,
"
from
the
mud
to
the
stars
.
"
She
added
,
unnecessarily
,
it
seemed
to
me
,
"
A
pageant
.
"
