and not enough time inside the house reading the Bible.”
My confidence in pulpit Gospel lessened at the vision of Miss Maudie stewing forever in various Protestant hells.
True enough, she had an acid tongue in her head, and she did not go about the neighborhood doing good, as did Miss Stephanie Crawford.
But while no one with a grain of sense trusted Miss Stephanie, Jem and I had considerable faith in Miss Maudie.
She had never told on us, had never played cat-and-mouse with us, she was not at all interested in our private lives.
She was our friend. How so reasonable a creature could live in peril of everlasting torment was incomprehensible.
That ain’t right, Miss Maudie. You’re the best lady I know.
Miss Maudie grinned.Thank you ma’am. Thing is, foot-washers think women are a sin by definition. They take the Bible literally, you know.
Is that why Mr. Arthur stays in the house, to keep away from women?” “I’ve no idea.
It doesn’t make sense to me. Looks like if Mr. Arthur was hankerin’ after heaven he’d come out on the porch at least.
Atticus says God’s loving folks like you love yourself—Miss Maudie stopped rocking, and her voice hardened.
“You are too young to understand it,” she said, “but sometimes the Bible in the hand of one man is worse
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