I was putting my book on the floor beside my cot when I saw him.
The creatures are no more than an inch long, and when you touch them they roll themselves into a tight gray ball.
I lay on my stomach, reached down and poked him. He rolled up. Then, feeling safe, I suppose, he slowly unrolled.
He traveled a few inches on his hundred legs and I touched him again. He rolled up.
Feeling sleepy, I decided to end things. My hand was going down on him when Jem spoke.
Jem was scowling. It was probably a part of the stage he was going through, and I wished he would hurry up and get through it.
He was certainly never cruel to animals, but I had never known his charity to embrace the insect world.
“Why couldn’t I mash him?” I asked. “Because they don’t bother you,Jem answered in the darkness.
He had turned out his reading light.Reckon you’re at the stage now where you don’t kill flies and mosquitoes now, I reckon,” I said.
“Lemme know when you change your mind. Tell you one thing, though, I ain’t gonna sit around and not scratch a redbug.”
“Aw dry up,” he answered drowsily. Jem was the one who was getting more like a girl every day, not I.
Comfortable, I lay on my back and waited for sleep, and while waiting I thought of Dill.
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