Journal #2
Chapters 4-7
Perspective of Jem
At last, the day came. Summer was here, which meant Dill was visiting. One day, we were all walking past the Radley Place while Dill told us more of his lies. He said some old lady had taught him how to smell death and proceeded to sniff Scout and tell her she was going to die in three days. Scout yelled at him to shush, and I figured I should do something before they started fighting. "You all hush," I said, "you're acting like you believe in Hot Steams."
"You're acting like you don't," Said Scout. I believed in Hot Steams from the moment I heard about them, but I didn't want Scout and Dill to think I was afraid of anything. However, Scout had told on me once more, so I explained to dill what a Hot Steam was. She then contradicted me one more time before I gave up.
"Well, are we going to play anything, or not?" I said. I was furious at Scout for disagreeing with me about the Hot Steams, and I wanted to relax with something.
"Let's roll in the tire," suggested Scout.
"You know I'm too big," I said.
"You can push."
I was thrilled to hear that. It would be a perfect opportunity to torment Scout for the way she talked to me earlier. She climbed into the tire, put her hands between her legs and chest, and yelled, "Go!" I pushed the tire down the sidewalk with all my strength, and watch as she rolled away. I realized a few seconds later I had made a big mistake. Scout and the tire had landed right in the middle of the Radley yard. I ran up to her, and yelled at her to get away from there. Scout stood up, then teetered in place as she recovered her balance.. I wondered why she wouldn't move, and yelled at her again. She ran back to Dill and I, leaving the tire behind.
"Why didn't you bring it?" I screamed at her.
"Why don't you get it?" she screamed back. I was hoping she wouldn't say that. True, I had touched the Radley Place once, but that doesn't mean I'm not terrified by it. I had no way to evade having to get the tire that didn't involve confessing to being scared. I decided I should get the it after all, since it was my malignant act that got me into this. I ran into the Radley Yard, grabbed the tire, and ran back as fast as I could. "See there? There's nothing to it," I said. The next thing I heard was Calpurnia calling us in for more lemonade. A unanimous sigh of relief was shared by all.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Journal #1
Journal #1
Chapters 1-3
Perspective of Jem
A few years ago, one hot summer day, my sister Jean Louise (I call her Scout) and I were playing in our back yard when we heard a strange noise coming from. We looked over our fence into Miss Rachel Haverford's collard patch. We thought we would see puppies, since Miss Haverford's dog was expecting, but instead we saw a boy. He was very short, a little shorter than Scout, and he was sitting next to the collards looking at us. We looked back at him until he broke the silence.
"Hey," he said to us. I was excited to meet our town's new citizen. Maycomb County was not very big back then, and I knew the names of almost everybody indigenous to that area. It was nice to see a new face for a change. The boy told us his name: Charles Baker Harris, or Dill. He also threw in the fact that he could read, although Scout wasn't too impressed by this. I wouldn't blame her, Scout's been reading since she was a baby. Nevertheless, her attempts at intimidation were useless.
Judging by the boy's size, I figured he was between four and five years old. I asked him just to be sure.
"Goin' on seven," he said,"I'm little but I'm old." It irked me to hear this. You don't usually expect somebody shorter than a six-year-old girl to be that old.
As it turns out, Miss Rachel was Dill's aunt, and he was just visiting for the summer. Dill came from Meridian, Mississippi, but his family was originally from Maycomb County. His mother worked for a photographer in Meridian, but Dill said he didn't have a father.
After this first meeting, Dill, Scout, and I were together almost every day that summer. We acted out every single story we knew, and soon we became bored of playing the same roles time and time again. Then one day Dill gave us the idea of trying to make Boo Radley come out of his house.
Boo was the nickname we gave Arthur Radley, one of the two occupants of the Radley Place (the other being his brother Nathan), the old house across the street from mine. Boo Radley's life was filled with mystery, and there were lots of rumors about him flying around town. Some people said that Boo went around town at night and looked through people's windows when they were asleep. Others said that he hunts squirrels for food. I heard that when he was thirty-three years old, he was cutting up the Maycomb Tribune for his scrapbook when his father walked into the living room. When Mr. Radley walked next to his son, Arthur picked up the scissors and stabbed his father in the leg.
Chapters 1-3
Perspective of Jem
A few years ago, one hot summer day, my sister Jean Louise (I call her Scout) and I were playing in our back yard when we heard a strange noise coming from. We looked over our fence into Miss Rachel Haverford's collard patch. We thought we would see puppies, since Miss Haverford's dog was expecting, but instead we saw a boy. He was very short, a little shorter than Scout, and he was sitting next to the collards looking at us. We looked back at him until he broke the silence.
"Hey," he said to us. I was excited to meet our town's new citizen. Maycomb County was not very big back then, and I knew the names of almost everybody indigenous to that area. It was nice to see a new face for a change. The boy told us his name: Charles Baker Harris, or Dill. He also threw in the fact that he could read, although Scout wasn't too impressed by this. I wouldn't blame her, Scout's been reading since she was a baby. Nevertheless, her attempts at intimidation were useless.
Judging by the boy's size, I figured he was between four and five years old. I asked him just to be sure.
"Goin' on seven," he said,"I'm little but I'm old." It irked me to hear this. You don't usually expect somebody shorter than a six-year-old girl to be that old.
As it turns out, Miss Rachel was Dill's aunt, and he was just visiting for the summer. Dill came from Meridian, Mississippi, but his family was originally from Maycomb County. His mother worked for a photographer in Meridian, but Dill said he didn't have a father.
After this first meeting, Dill, Scout, and I were together almost every day that summer. We acted out every single story we knew, and soon we became bored of playing the same roles time and time again. Then one day Dill gave us the idea of trying to make Boo Radley come out of his house.
Boo was the nickname we gave Arthur Radley, one of the two occupants of the Radley Place (the other being his brother Nathan), the old house across the street from mine. Boo Radley's life was filled with mystery, and there were lots of rumors about him flying around town. Some people said that Boo went around town at night and looked through people's windows when they were asleep. Others said that he hunts squirrels for food. I heard that when he was thirty-three years old, he was cutting up the Maycomb Tribune for his scrapbook when his father walked into the living room. When Mr. Radley walked next to his son, Arthur picked up the scissors and stabbed his father in the leg.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)