“Why didn’t you bring it?” Jem yelled. “Why don’t you get it?” I screamed.
Jem was silent.Go on, it ain’t far inside the gate. Why, you even touched the house once, remember?
Jem looked at me furiously, could not decline, ran down the sidewalk, treaded water at the gate,
then dashed in and retrieved the tire. “See there?” Jem was scowling triumphantly.
Nothin‘ to it. I swear, Scout, sometimes you act so much like a girl it’s mortifyin’.
There was more to it than he knew, but I decided not to tell him.
Calpurnia appeared in the front door and yelled, “Lemonade time! You all get in outa that hot sun ‘fore you fry alive!”
Lemonade in the middle of the morning was a summertime ritual.
Calpurnia set a pitcher and three glasses on the porch, then went about her business.
Being out of Jem’s good graces did not worry me especially. Lemonade would restore his good humor.
Jem gulped down his second glassful and slapped his chest. “I know what we are going to play,” he announced.
“Something new, something different.” “What?” asked Dill. “Boo Radley.”
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