what’s rape, Cal?” “It’s somethin‘ you’ll have to ask Mr. Finch about,” she said.
“He can explain it better than I can. You all hungry? The Reverend took a long time unwindin’ this morning, he’s not usually so tedious.”
“He’s just like our preacher,” said Jem, “but why do you all sing hymns that way?”
“Linin‘?” she asked. “Is that what it is?” “Yeah, it’s called linin‘.
They’ve done it that way as long as I can remember.”
Jem said it looked like they could save the collection money for a year and get some hymn-books.
Calpurnia laughed. “Wouldn’t do any good,” she said. “They can’t read.”
“Can’t read?” I asked. “All those folks?” “That’s right,” Calpurnia nodded.
“Can’t but about four folks in First Purchase read… I’m one of ‘em.”
“Where’d you go to school, Cal?” asked Jem. “Nowhere. Let’s see now, who taught me my letters?
It was Miss Maudie Atkinson’s aunt, old Miss Buford—” “Are you that old?”
I’m older than Mr. Finch, even.Calpurnia grinned.Not sure how much, though.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색