Mr. Radley was dying. He took his time about it. Wooden sawhorses blocked the road at each end of the Radley lot,
straw was put down on the sidewalk, traffic was diverted to the back street.
Dr. Reynolds parked his car in front of our house and walked to the Radley’s every time he called.
Jem and I crept around the yard for days. At last the sawhorses were taken away,
and we stood watching from the front porch when Mr. Radley made his final journey past our house.
“There goes the meanest man ever God blew breath into,” murmured Calpurnia, and she spat meditatively into the yard.
We looked at her in surprise, for Calpurnia rarely commented on the ways of white people.
The neighborhood thought when Mr. Radley went under Boo would come out, but it had another think coming:
Boo’s elder brother returned from Pensacola and took Mr. Radley’s place.
The only difference between him and his father was their ages.
Jem said Mr. Nathan Radley “bought cotton,” too. Mr. Nathan would speak to us, however, when we said good morning,
and sometimes we saw him coming from town with a magazine in his hand.
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