In, Maycomb, everyone’s talking about Tom. That’s I ever heart anyway, and Atticus had his trial, and Scout said she really wanted to go. Corse, I said yes, but Cal would skin ya alive, but she said she could handle her. So, I said allright. No one in Maycomb barley recognized us when we came to the trial, with Dill of course, and we all sat in the colored folks section, we were next to Reverend Skyes, awful nice man.
Later Scout tell me that when they went outside, they met Mr. Dolphus Raymond and said he don’t drink nothing but co-cola in that bottle of his. I was surprized.
Well I guess Aunt Alexandra was right, it’s just baby steps and it’s really not right of the jury to convict poor old Tom Robinson. They’re crazy—the judges are. Don’t ever let a black free.
No comments:
Post a Comment