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"
That
’
s
what
you
are
,
ain
’
t
it
?
"
"
My
shell
’
s
not
that
hard
,
child
.
I
’
m
just
a
Baptist
.
"
"
Don
’
t
you
all
believe
in
foot
-
washing
?
"
"
We
do
.
At
home
in
the
bathtub
.
"
"
But
we
can
’
t
have
communion
with
you
all
—
"
Apparently
deciding
that
it
was
easier
to
define
primitive
baptistry
than
closed
communion
,
Miss
Maudie
said
:
"
Foot
-
washers
believe
anything
that
’
s
pleasure
is
a
sin
.
Did
you
know
some
of
‘
em
came
out
of
the
woods
one
Saturday
and
passed
by
this
place
and
told
me
me
and
my
flowers
were
going
to
hell
?
"
"
Your
flowers
,
too
?
"
"
Yes
ma
’
am
.
They
’
d
burn
right
with
me
.
They
thought
I
spent
too
much
time
in
God
’
s
outdoors
and
not
enough
time
inside
the
house
reading
the
Bible
.
"
My
confidence
in
pulpit
Gospel
lessened
at
the
vision
of
Miss
Maudie
stewing
forever
in
various
Protestant
hells
.
True
enough
,
she
had
an
acid
tongue
in
her
head
,
and
she
did
not
go
about
the
neighborhood
doing
good
,
as
did
Miss
Stephanie
Crawford
.
But
while
no
one
with
a
grain
of
sense
trusted
Miss
Stephanie
,
Jem
and
I
had
considerable
faith
in
Miss
Maudie
.
She
had
never
told
on
us
,
had
never
played
cat
-
and
-
mouse
with
us
,
she
was
not
at
all
interested
in
our
private
lives
.
She
was
our
friend
.
How
so
reasonable
a
creature
could
live
in
peril
of
everlasting
torment
was
incomprehensible
.
"
That
ain
’
t
right
,
Miss
Maudie
.
You
’
re
the
best
lady
I
know
.
"
