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"
All
right
,
you
just
keep
it
up
then
,
"
I
said
.
"
You
’
ll
find
out
.
"
Atticus
’
s
arrival
was
the
second
reason
I
wanted
to
quit
the
game
.
The
first
reason
happened
the
day
I
rolled
into
the
Radley
front
yard
.
Through
all
the
head
-
shaking
,
quelling
of
nausea
and
Jem
-
yelling
,
I
had
heard
another
sound
,
so
low
I
could
not
have
heard
it
from
the
sidewalk
.
Someone
inside
the
house
was
laughing
.
My
nagging
got
the
better
of
Jem
eventually
,
as
I
knew
it
would
,
and
to
my
relief
we
slowed
down
the
game
for
a
while
.
He
still
maintained
,
however
,
that
Atticus
hadn
’
t
said
we
couldn
’
t
,
therefore
we
could
;
and
if
Atticus
ever
said
we
couldn
’
t
,
Jem
had
thought
of
a
way
around
it
:
he
would
simply
change
the
names
of
the
characters
and
then
we
couldn
’
t
be
accused
of
playing
anything
.
Dill
was
in
hearty
agreement
with
this
plan
of
action
.
Dill
was
becoming
something
of
a
trial
anyway
,
following
Jem
about
.
He
had
asked
me
earlier
in
the
summer
to
marry
him
,
then
he
promptly
forgot
about
it
.
He
staked
me
out
,
marked
as
his
property
,
said
I
was
the
only
girl
he
would
ever
love
,
then
he
neglected
me
.
I
beat
him
up
twice
but
it
did
no
good
,
he
only
grew
closer
to
Jem
.
They
spent
days
together
in
the
treehouse
plotting
and
planning
,
calling
me
only
when
they
needed
a
third
party
.
But
I
kept
aloof
from
their
more
foolhardy
schemes
for
a
while
,
and
on
pain
of
being
called
a
girl
,
I
spent
most
of
the
remaining
twilights
that
summer
sitting
with
Miss
Maudie
Atkinson
on
her
front
porch
.
Jem
and
I
had
always
enjoyed
the
free
run
of
Miss
Maudie
’
s
yard
if
we
kept
out
of
her
azaleas
,
but
our
contact
with
her
was
not
clearly
defined
.
Until
Jem
and
Dill
excluded
me
from
their
plans
,
she
was
only
another
lady
in
the
neighborhood
,
but
a
relatively
benign
presence
.
Our
tacit
treaty
with
Miss
Maudie
was
that
we
could
play
on
her
lawn
,
eat
her
scuppernongs
if
we
didn
’
t
jump
on
the
arbor
,
and
explore
her
vast
back
lot
,
terms
so
generous
we
seldom
spoke
to
her
,
so
careful
were
we
to
preserve
the
delicate
balance
of
our
relationship
,
but
Jem
and
Dill
drove
me
closer
to
her
with
their
behavior
.
Miss
Maudie
hated
her
house
:
time
spent
indoors
was
time
wasted
.
She
was
a
widow
,
a
chameleon
lady
who
worked
in
her
flower
beds
in
an
old
straw
hat
and
men
’
s
coveralls
,
but
after
her
five
o
’
clock
bath
she
would
appear
on
the
porch
and
reign
over
the
street
in
magisterial
beauty
.
She
loved
everything
that
grew
in
God
’
s
earth
,
even
the
weeds
.
With
one
exception
.
If
she
found
a
blade
of
nut
grass
in
her
yard
it
was
like
the
Second
Battle
of
the
Marne
:
she
swooped
down
upon
it
with
a
tin
tub
and
subjected
it
to
blasts
from
beneath
with
a
poisonous
substance
she
said
was
so
powerful
it
’
d
kill
us
all
if
we
didn
’
t
stand
out
of
the
way
.
"
Why
can
’
t
you
just
pull
it
up
?
"
I
asked
,
after
witnessing
a
prolonged
campaign
against
a
blade
not
three
inches
high
.
"
Pull
it
up
,
child
,
pull
it
up
?
"
She
picked
up
the
limp
sprout
and
squeezed
her
thumb
up
its
tiny
stalk
.
Microscopic
grains
oozed
out
.
"
Why
,
one
sprig
of
nut
grass
can
ruin
a
whole
yard
.
Look
here
.
When
it
comes
fall
this
dries
up
and
the
wind
blows
it
all
over
Maycomb
County
!
"
Miss
Maudie
’
s
face
likened
such
an
occurrence
unto
an
Old
Testament
pestilence
.
