watched the river-boats, and gazed into the lives of surrounding landholders.
There went with the house the usual legend about the Yankees: one Finch female, recently engaged,
donned her complete trousseau to save it from raiders in the neighborhood;
she became stuck in the door to the Daughters’ Staircase but was doused with water and finally pushed through.
When we arrived at the Landing, Aunt Alexandra kissed Uncle Jack, Francis kissed Uncle Jack, Uncle Jimmy shook hands silently with Uncle Jack,
Jem and I gave our presents to Francis, who gave us a present.
Jem felt his age and gravitated to the adults, leaving me to entertain our cousin.
Francis was eight and slicked back his hair. “What’d you get for Christmas?” I asked politely.
“Just what I asked for,” he said. Francis had requested a pair of knee-pants, a red leather booksack, five shirts and an untied bow tie.
“That’s nice,” I lied. “Jem and me got air rifles, and Jem got a chemistry set—” “A toy one, I reckon.”
“No, a real one. He’s gonna make me some invisible ink, and I’m gonna write to Dill in it.”
Francis asked what was the use of that. “Well, can’t you just see his face when he gets a letter from me with nothing in it?
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