“It most certainly is.” “You’re a strong girl, what were you doing all the time, just standing there?”
“I told’ja I hollered’n’kicked’n’fought—” Atticus reached up and took off his glasses,
turned his good right eye to the witness, and rained questions on her. Judge Taylor said, “One question at a time, Atticus.
Give the witness a chance to answer.” “All right, why didn’t you run?” “I tried…
Tried to? What kept you from it?” “I—he slung me down. That’s what he did, he slung me down’n got on top of me.
You were screaming all this time?” “I certainly was.” “Then why didn’t the other children hear you? Where were they?
At the dump?” “Where were they?” No answer.Why didn’t your screams make them come running?
The dump’s closer than the woods, isn’t it?” No answer.
“Or didn’t you scream until you saw your father in the window? You didn’t think to scream until then, did you?” No answer.
“Did you scream first at your father instead of at Tom Robinson? Was that it?” No answer.
“Who beat you up? Tom Robinson or your father?” No answer. “What did your father see in the window,
the crime of rape or the best defense to it? Why don’t you tell the truth, child, didn’t Bob Ewell beat you up?”
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