Atticus Told Me To Delete The Adjectives

Somewhere, I Had Received The Impression That Fine Folks Were People Who Did The Best They Could With The Sense They Had, But Aunt Alexandra Was Of The Opinion, Obliquely Expressed, That The Longer A Family Had Been Squatting On One Patch Of Land The Finer It Was.

Next Morning I Awoke, Looked Out The Window And Nearly Died Of Fright. My Screams Brought Atticus From His Bathroom Half-shaven. "the World's Endin', Atticus! Please Do Something -!" I Dragged Him To The Window And Pointed. "no It's Not," He Said. "it's Snowing.

It's Better To Be Silent Than To Be A Fool.

Hey, Mr. Cunningham. How's Your Entailment Gettin' Along?

When I Pointed To Him His Palms Slipped Slightly, Leaving Greasy Sweat Streaks On The Wall, And He Hooked His Thumbs In His Belt. A Strange Spasm Shook Him, As If He Heard Fingernails Scrape Slate, But As I Gazed At Him In Wonder The Tension Slowly Drained From His Face. His Lips Parted Into A Timid Smile, And Our Neighbor’s Image Blurred With My Sudden Tears. “hey, Boo,” I Said. “mr. Arthur, Honey,” Said Atticus, Gently Correcting Me. “jean Louise, This Is Mr. Arthur Radley. I Believe He Already Knows You.