Occasionally I looked back at Jem, who was patiently trying to place the note on the window sill.
It would flutter to the ground and Jem would jab it up, until I thought if Boo Radley ever received it he wouldn’t be able to read it.
I was looking down the street when the dinner-bell rang. Shoulder up, I reeled around to face Boo Radley and his bloody fangs;
instead, I saw Dill ringing the bell with all his might in Atticus’s face.
Jem looked so awful I didn’t have the heart to tell him I told him so. He trudged along, dragging the pole behind him on the sidewalk.
Atticus said, “Stop ringing that bell.” Dill grabbed the clapper; in the silence that followed, I wished he’d start ringing it again.
Atticus pushed his hat to the back of his head and put his hands on his hips. “Jem,” he said, “what were you doing?” “Nothin’, sir.”
“I don’t want any of that. Tell me.” “I was—we were just tryin’ to give somethin’ to Mr. Radley.”
“What were you trying to give him?” “Just a letter.” “Let me see it.” Jem held out a filthy piece of paper. Atticus took it and tried to read it.
“Why do you want Mr. Radley to come out?” Dill said, “We thought he might enjoy us…” and dried up when Atticus looked at him.
“Son,” he said to Jem, “I’m going to tell you something and tell you one time: stop tormenting that man. That goes for the other two of you.”
What Mr. Radley did was his own business. If he wanted to come out, he would.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색