There's Just Some Kind Of

Nothin’s Real Scary Except In Books.

Long Ago, In A Burst Of Friendliness, Aunty And Uncle Jimmy Produced A Son Named Henry.

Miss Caroline Seemed Unaware That The Ragged, Denim-shirted And Floursack-skirted First Grade, Most Of Whom Had Chopped Cotton And Fed Hogs From The Time They Were Able To Walk, Were Immune To Imaginative Literature.

If This Thing's Hushed Up It'll Be A Simple Denial To Jem Of The Way I've Tried To Raise Him. Sometimes I Think I'm A Total Failure As A Parent, But I'm All They've Got. Before Jem Looks At Anyone Else He Looks At Me, And I've Tried To Live So I Can Look Squarely Back At Him.. If I Connived At Something Like This, Frankly I Couldn't Meet His Eye, And The Day I Can't Do That I'll Know I've Lost Him. I Don't Want To Lose Him And Scout, Because They're All I've Got.

For The Life Of Me, I Did Not Understand How He[atticus] Could Sit There In Cold Blood And Read A Newspaper When His Only Son Stood An Excellent Chance Of Being Murdered With A Confederate Army Relic.