I denied it, but told Jem. “What’d he mean sayin’ that?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Jem said. “Ask Atticus, he’ll tell you.”
“Do you defend niggers, Atticus?” I asked him that evening. “Of course I do. Don’t say nigger, Scout. That’s common.”
“‘s what everybody at school says.” “From now on it’ll be everybody less one—”
Well if you don’t want me to grow up talkin’ that way, why do you send me to school?”
My father looked at me mildly, amusement in his eyes.
Despite our compromise, my campaign to avoid school had continued in one form or another since my first day’s dose of it:
the beginning of last September had brought on sinking spells, dizziness, and mild gastric complaints.
I went so far as to pay a nickel for the privilege of rubbing my head against the head of Miss Rachel’s cook’s son,
who was afflicted with a tremendous ringworm. It didn’t take. But I was worrying another bone.
“Do all lawyers defend n-Negroes, Atticus?” “Of course they do, Scout.”
“Then why did Cecil say you defended niggers? He made it sound like you were runnin’ a still.”
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색