“You never went to school and you do all right, so I’ll just stay home too.”
“You can teach me like Granddaddy taught you ‘n’ Uncle Jack.” “No I can’t,” said Atticus. “I have to make a living.”
Besides, they’d put me in jail if I kept you at home—dose of magnesia for you tonight and school tomorrow.
“I’m feeling all right, really.” “Thought so. Now what’s the matter?”
Bit by bit, I told him the day’s misfortunes. “-and she said you taught me all wrong, so we can’t ever read any more, ever.”
“Please don’t send me back, please sir.” Atticus stood up and walked to the end of the porch.
When he completed his examination of the wisteria vine he strolled back to me.
“First of all,” he said, “if you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks.”
“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view—”
“Sir?” “—until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”
Atticus said I had learned many things today, and Miss Caroline had learned several things herself.
She had learned not to hand something to a Cunningham, for one thing,
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