Chapter 25 Chapter Twenty-Five

"Scout, don't do that. Put it on the back steps." "Jem, are you out of your mind? . . . " "I said, put it on the back steps." I sighed, picked up the little thing, put it on the bottom step, and went back to my cot.It's September, but the cool weather is still gone, and we're still sleeping on the screened-in back porch.Fireflies are still flying around, and big earthworms and flying insects that have been scurrying about the screens all summer are still there--they usually disappear without a trace when autumn comes. A watermelon bug crawled into the house twisting and turning. I guess the little guy first climbed the steps and then got in under the door.I was about to put the book on the floor next to the bed when I spotted it.These bugs are no more than an inch long, and when you touch them, they shrink tightly into a little gray ball.

I lay down on the bed, reached down and poked it, and it shrank into a ball immediately.After a while, I guessed it felt all right, so it stretched itself out and started to walk on its hundred legs, and after a few inches I touched it again, and it curled up again .At this point I was a little sleepy and decided to give it a break.I was just reaching down to strangle it when Jem spoke. He frowned.It is estimated that he is going through a certain stage in a certain period of life. I hope he will speed up his pace and finish this period quickly.Speaking of which, he has never abused animals, but I didn't expect his kindness to benefit the bug world.

"Why can't I strangle it?" I asked. "Because they didn't bother you," Jem replied in the dark.By this time he had turned off the desk lamp. "I see, you've reached a stage where you don't even have the heart to kill flies and mosquitos," I said. "Whenever you change your mind, just let me know. But I'll tell you, I won't." Sit around and don't even scratch the ladybugs when they crawl on you." "Okay, stop talking." He was drowsy. Now it's Jem, not me, who's getting more and more like a girl between the two of us.I lay back comfortably and waited for sleep to fall, thinking of Dill again without realizing it.He said good-bye to us on the first of this month, promising to come back to us as soon as school was over--he guessed his family knew he liked spending the summer in Maycomb.Miss Rachel took a cab to see him off at the Maycomb station, taking Jem and me.Dill kept waving at us from the car window until he was out of view.But he's still in my heart - I miss him.During the last two days he spent with us, Jem also taught him how to swim...

Teach him how to swim.Suddenly I became very lucid, remembering what Dill had told me. Buck's Cove is at the end of a dirt road that joins the highway to Meridian, about a mile out of town.It was easy to catch a cotton truck or a passing car to get there, and it was not difficult to take a short cut to the river.But the thought of having to walk all the way back at dusk when traffic is sparse is disheartening, so swimmers are careful not to stay too late. Dill said he and Jem had just stepped onto the freeway that day when they saw Atticus driving toward them.Atticus didn't seem to notice them, so they both waved furiously.Atticus finally slowed the car, and when they caught up, he said to them, "You'd better get a ride home. I won't be home anytime soon." They saw Calpurnia in the backseat.

Jem protested and begged, and Atticus said, "Well, you can come with us, but you must stay in the car." On the way to Tom Robinson's house, Atticus told them what had happened. They got off the freeway, walked slowly around the dump, past the Ewell house, down a narrow alley to the log cabins where the black people lived.Dill said there was a whole bunch of black kids playing marbles in Tom's front yard.Atticus stopped and walked down, Calpurnia following him through the gate. Dill heard Atticus ask a boy, "Where's your mother, Sam?" Sam replied, "She's at Sister Stevens', Mr. Finch. Shall I run and fetch her?" "

Dill said Atticus seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying "Okay," and Sam ran away.Atticus said to the group of children, "Go ahead, boys." A little girl came to the door of the cabin and stood looking at Atticus.Dill said her hair was pulled into many thin, straight braids, with bright bows tied at the ends of each braid.She grinned widely, mouth from ear to ear, and walked over to Atticus.But she is too young to go down the steps.Atticus hurried up to her, took off his hat, and held out a finger to her.The little girl grabbed his fingers and slowly walked down the steps under his guidance.Then Atticus gave her to Calpurnia.

At this moment, Sam trotted along and came back after his mother.Helen said, "Good evening, Mr. Finch, please take a seat." She said nothing more, and neither did Atticus. "Scout," Dill recounted to me, "she fell to the floor. Just fell to the floor, like a giant with big feet came and stepped on her, and that was it. Step her on..." Dill stamped his chubby foot on the ground, "like you stepped on an ant." Calpurnia and Atticus picked Helen up and half-assisted her into the house, Dill said.They stayed there for a long time, and at last Atticus came out alone.As they drove past the dump again, some of the Ewells yelled at them, and Dill couldn't make out what they were shouting.

The news of Tom's death was only noticed in Maycomb for perhaps two days, enough time for the news to spread throughout the county. "Did you hear that? . . . not yet? Well, I hear he can run faster than lightning..." Tom's death was a typical event in Maycomb—a typical nigger escape, a typical His mind is confused, he has no plans, he doesn't think about the future, and he runs away blindly at every opportunity.The funniest part was that Atticus Finch could have gotten him out of jail, but keeping him waiting... no way!You know what kind of people they are.Only look at the present, not the long-term.Think about it, Robinson is also a serious married man. It is said that he is very well-behaved and goes to church, but these are superficial phenomena, which are not reliable at all. face.A nigger is a nigger after all.

This statement, plus a few details, formed the version of the story passed down by listeners, and there was little else to talk about until Thursday in the Maycomb Tribune's Negro News Column. A brief obituary and an editorial were published. Mr Underwood lashed out at Tom's death in the most vehement terms, caring little about who would pull the ad or unsubscribe for it.But that's never been the game in Maycomb: Mr. Underwood can shout and sweat and write as much as he likes, but the ads and orders he receives are not affected. what effect.If he wanted to make a big fool of himself in his own newspaper, that was his own business.Mr. Underwood doesn't talk about the miscarriage of justice, and he writes in a way that even a young child can understand.He made only one point: it is a crime to kill disabled people, whether they are standing, sitting, or running.He compared Tom's death to hunters and ignorant children foolishly killing songbirds.The people of Maycomb believed that he had deliberately written the editorial poetically for reprinting in the Montgomery Gazette.

I read Mr. Underwood's editorial and wondered: how could it be a stupid killing? ——Before Tom's death, his case was always following the due process of law: it was tried in public, and he was convicted by twelve honest and selfless people, and my father has been fighting for him.Gradually, I understood what Mr. Underwood meant: Atticus pulled out all the means a free man could to save Tom Robinson, but in the secret court of people's hearts, there is nothing at all Litigation to speak of.From the moment Mayella Ewell started yelling, Tom was dead. The last name Ewell makes me gag.The people of Maycomb eagerly asked what Bob Ewell thought of Tom's death, and spread it at once through Miss Stephanie, the "Channel" of gossip.Miss Stephanie told Aunt Alexandra that Mr. Ewell said one had been killed and two remained.She said it in Jem's presence--very bad, he was old enough to listen.Jem told me not to be afraid, that Mr. Ewell was just talking nonsense.But he also told me not to say a word to Atticus, or let Atticus see that I knew about it, or he'd never talk to me again.