that he started off the same way, and it was not until one reached the sixth grade that one learned anything of value.
The sixth grade seemed to please him from the beginning: he went through a brief Egyptian Period that baffled me—
he tried to walk flat a great deal, sticking one arm in front of him and one in back of him, putting one foot behind the other.
He declared Egyptians walked that way; I said if they did I didn’t see how they got anything done,
but Jem said they accomplished more than the Americans ever did, they invented toilet paper and perpetual embalming,
and asked where would we be today if they hadn’t? Atticus told me to delete the adjectives and I’d have the facts.
There are no clearly defined seasons in South Alabama; summer drifts into autumn,
and autumn is sometimes never followed by winter, but turns to a days-old spring that melts into summer again.
That fall was a long one, hardly cool enough for a light jacket.
Jem and I were trotting in our orbit one mild October afternoon when our knot-hole stopped us again.
Something white was inside this time. Jem let me do the honors: I pulled out two small images carved in soap.
One was the figure of a boy, the other wore a crude dress.
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