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Atticus
said
,
"
Let
’
s
all
sit
down
.
Have
that
chair
,
Heck
.
I
’
ll
get
another
one
from
the
livingroom
.
"
Mr
.
Tate
sat
in
Jem
’
s
desk
chair
.
He
waited
until
Atticus
returned
and
settled
himself
.
I
wondered
why
Atticus
had
not
brought
a
chair
for
the
man
in
the
corner
,
but
Atticus
knew
the
ways
of
country
people
far
better
than
I
.
Some
of
his
rural
clients
would
park
their
long
-
eared
steeds
under
the
chinaberry
trees
in
the
back
yard
,
and
Atticus
would
often
keep
appointments
on
the
back
steps
.
This
one
was
probably
more
comfortable
where
he
was
.
"
Mr
.
Finch
,
"
said
Mr
.
Tate
,
"
tell
you
what
I
found
.
I
found
a
little
girl
’
s
dress
—
it
’
s
out
there
in
my
car
That
your
dress
,
Scout
?
"
"
Yes
sir
,
if
it
’
s
a
pink
one
with
smockin
’
,
"
I
said
.
Mr
.
Tate
was
behaving
as
if
he
were
on
the
witness
stand
.
He
liked
to
tell
things
his
own
way
,
untrammeled
by
state
or
defense
,
and
sometimes
it
took
him
a
while
.
"
I
found
some
funny
-
looking
pieces
of
muddy
-
colored
cloth
—
"
"
That
’
s
m
’
costume
,
Mr
.
Tate
.
"
Mr
.
Tate
ran
his
hands
down
his
thighs
.
He
rubbed
his
left
arm
and
investigated
Jem
’
s
mantelpiece
,
then
he
seemed
to
be
interested
in
the
fireplace
.
His
fingers
sought
his
long
nose
.
"
What
is
it
,
Heck
?
"
said
Atticus
.
Mr
.
Tate
found
his
neck
and
rubbed
it
.
"
Bob
Ewell
’
s
lyin
’
on
the
ground
under
that
tree
down
yonder
with
a
kitchen
knife
stuck
up
under
his
ribs
.
He
’
s
dead
,
Mr
.
Finch
.
"
