“But I found it and looked down to the street light. A man was passing under it. The man was walking with the staccato steps of someone carrying a load too heavy for him. He was going around the corner. He was carrying Jem. Jem’s arm was dangling crazily in front of him.”

“Mr. Tate found his neck and rubbed it. ‘Bob Ewell’s lyin’ on the ground under that tree down yonder with a kitchen knife stuck up under his ribs. He’s dead, Mr. Finch.’”

  

 

 

 

“‘Scout,’ he said, ‘Mr. Ewell fell on his knife. Can you possibly understand?’ Atticus looked like he needed cheering up. I ran to him and hugged him and kissed him with all my might. ‘Yes sir, I understand,’ I reassured him. ‘Mr. Tate was right.’ Atticus disengaged himself and looked at me. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Well, it’d sort of be like shootin’ a mockingbird, wouldn’t it?’” “He turned out the light and went into Jem’s room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.”

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