“an’ they’re still kin to you no matter whether you acknowledge ‘em or not, and it makes you look right silly when you don’t.”
“That’s your father all over again,” said Aunt Alexandra, “and I still say that Jean Louise will not invite Walter Cunningham to this house.”
If he were her double first cousin once removed he would still not be received in this house unless he comes to see Atticus on business.
“Now that is that.” She had said Indeed Not, but this time she would give her reasons: “But I want to play with Walter, Aunty, why can’t I?”
She took off her glasses and stared at me. “I’ll tell you why,” she said. “Because— he—is—trash, that’s why you can’t play with him.”
“I’ll not have you around him, picking up his habits and learning Lord-knows-what. You’re enough of a problem to your father as it is.”
I don’t know what I would have done, but Jem stopped me.
He caught me by the shoulders, put his arm around me, and led me sobbing in fury to his bedroom.
Atticus heard us and poked his head around the door. “‘s all right, sir,” Jem said gruffly, “’s not anything.” Atticus went away.
“Have a chew, Scout.” Jem dug into his pocket and extracted a Tootsie Roll.
It took a few minutes to work the candy into a comfortable wad inside my jaw. Jem was rearranging the objects on his dresser.
His hair stuck up behind and down in front, and I wondered if it would ever look like a man’s—
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