record, Judge." I thought he sounded tired.
"Witness'll answer, though," said Judge Taylor, just as wearily.
"Yes suh, I got thirty days."
I knew that Mr. Gilmer would sincerely tell the jury that anyone who
was convicted of disorderly conduct could easily have had it in his
heart to take advantage of Mayella Ewell, that was the only reason
he cared. Reasons like that helped.
"Robinson, you're pretty good at busting up chiffarobes and kindling
with one hand, aren't you?"
"Yes, suh, I reckon so."
"Strong enough to choke the breath out of a woman and sling her to
the floor?"
"I never done that, suh."
"But you are strong enough to?"
"I reckon so, suh."
"Had your eye on her a long time, hadn't you, boy?"
"No suh, I never looked at her."
"Then you were mighty polite to do all that chopping and hauling for
her, weren't you, boy?"
"I was just tryin' to help her out, suh."
"That was mighty generous of you, you had chores at home after
your regular work, didn't you?"
"Yes suh."
"Why didn't you do them instead of Miss Ewell's?"
"I done 'em both, suh."
"You must have been pretty busy. Why?"
"Why what, suh?"
"Why were you so anxious to do that woman's chores?"
Tom Robinson hesitated, searching for an answer. "Looked like she
didn't have nobody to help her, like I says-"
"With Mr. Ewell and seven children on the place, boy?"
"Well, I says it looked like they never help her none-"
"You did all this chopping and work from sheer goodness, boy?"
"Tried to help her, I says."
Mr. Gilmer smiled grimly at the jury. "You're a mighty good
fellow, it seems- did all this for not one penny?"
"Yes, suh. I felt right sorry for her, she seemed to try more'n
the rest of 'em-"
"You felt sorry for her, you felt sorry for her?" Mr. Gilmer
seemed ready to rise to the ceiling.
The witness realized his mistake and shifted uncomfortably in the
chair. But the damage was done. Below us, nobody liked Tom
Robinson's answer. Mr. Gilmer paused a long time to let it sink in.
"Now you went by the house as usual, last November twenty-first," he
said, "and she asked you to come in and bust up a chiffarobe?"
"No suh."
"Do you deny that you went by the house?"
"No suh- she said she had somethin' for me to do inside the house-"
"She says she asked you to bust up a chiffarobe, is that right?"
"No suh, it ain't."
"Then you say she's lying, boy?"
Atticus was on his feet, but Tom Robinson didn't need him. "I
don't say she's lyin', Mr. Gilmer, I say she's mistaken in her mind."
To the next ten questions, as Mr. Gilmer reviewed Mayella's
version of events, the witness's steady answer was that she was
mistaken in her mind.
"Didn't Mr. Ewell run you off the place, boy?"
"No suh, I don't think he did."
"Don't think, what do you mean?"
"I mean I didn't stay long enough for him to run me off."
"You're very candid about this, why did you run so fast?"
"I says I was scared, suh."
"If you had a clear conscience, why were you scared?"
"Like I says before, it weren't safe for any nigger to be in a-
fix like that."
"But you weren't in a fix- you testified that you were resisting
Miss Ewell. Were you so scared that she'd hurt you, you ran, a big
buck like you?"
"No suh, I's scared I'd be in court, just like I am now."
"Scared of arrest, scared you'd have to face up to what you did?"
"No suh, scared I'd hafta face up to what I didn't do."
"Are you being impudent to me, boy?"
"No suh, I didn't go to be."
This was as much as I heard of Mr. Gilmer's cross-examination,
because Jem made me take Dill out. For some reason Dill had started
crying and couldn't stop; quietly at first, then his sobs were heard
by several people in the balcony. Jem said if I didn't go with him
he'd make me, and Reverend Sykes said I'd better go, so I went. Dill
had seemed to be all right that day, nothing wrong with him, but I
guessed he hadn't fully recovered from running away.
"Ain't you feeling good?" I asked, when we reached the bottom of the
stairs.
Dill tried to pull himself together as we ran down the south
steps. Mr. Link Deas was a lonely figure on the top step. "Anything
happenin', Scout?" he asked as we went by. "No sir," I answered over
my shoulder. "Dill here, he's sick."
"Come on out under the trees," I said. "Heat got you, I expect."
We chose the fattest live oak and we sat under it.
"It was just him I couldn't stand," Dill said.
"Who, Tom?"
"That old Mr. Gilmer doin' him thataway, talking so hateful to him-"
"Dill, that's his job. Why, if we didn't have prosecutors- well,
we couldn't have defense attorneys, I reckon."
Dill exhaled patiently. "I know all that, Scout. It was the way he
said it made me sick, plain sick."
"He's supposed to act that way, Dill, he was cross-"
"He didn't act that way when-"
"Dill, those were his own witnesses."
"Well, Mr. Finch didn't act that way to Mayella and old man Ewell
when he cross-examined them. The way that man called him 'boy' all the
time an' sneered at him, an' looked around at the jury every time he
answered-"
"Well, Dill, after all he's just a Negro."
"I don't care one speck. It ain't right, somehow it ain't right to
do 'em that way. Hasn't anybody got any business talkin' like that- it
just makes me sick."
"That's just Mr. Gilmer's way, Dill, he does 'em all that way.
You've never seen him get good'n down on one yet. Why, when- well,
today Mr. Gilmer seemed to me like he wasn't half trying. They do
'em all that way, most lawyers, I mean."
"Mr. Finch doesn't."
"He's not an example, Dill, he's-" I was trying to grope in my
memory for a sharp phrase of Miss Maudie Atkinson's. I had it: "He's
the same in the courtroom as he is on the public streets."
"That's not what I mean," said Dill.
"I know what you mean, boy," said a voice behind us. We thought it
came from the tree-trunk, but it belonged to Mr. Dolphus Raymond. He
peered around the trunk at us. "You aren't thin-hided, it just makes
you sick, doesn't it?"
20
"Come on round here, son, I got something that'll settle your
stomach."
As Mr. Dolphus Raymond was an evil man I accepted his invitation
reluctantly, but I followed Dill. Somehow, I didn't think Atticus
would like it if we became friendly with Mr. Raymond, and I knew
Aunt Alexandra wouldn't.
"Here," he said, offering Dill his paper sack with straws in it.
"Take a good sip, it'll quieten you."
Dill sucked on the straws, smiled, and pulled at length.
"Hee hee," said Mr. Raymond, evidently taking delight in
corrupting a child.
"Dill, you watch out, now," I warned.
Dill released the straws and grinned. "Scout, it's nothing but
Coca-Cola."
Mr. Raymond sat up against the tree-trunk. He had been lying on
the grass. "You little folks won't tell on me now, will you? It'd ruin
my reputation if you did."
"You mean all you drink in that sack's Coca-Cola? Just plain
Coca-Cola?"
"Yes ma'am," Mr. Raymond nodded. I liked his smell: it was of
leather, horses, cottonseed. He wore the only English riding boots I
had ever seen. "That's all I drink, most of the time."
"Then you just pretend you're half-? I beg your pardon, sir," I
caught myself. "I didn't mean to be-"
Mr. Raymond chuckled, not at all offended, and I tried to frame a
discreet question: "Why do you do like you do?"
"Wh- oh yes, you mean why do I pretend? Well, it's very simple,"
he said. "Some folks don't- like the way I live. Now I could say the
hell with 'em, I don't care if they don't like it. I do say I don't
care if they don't like it, right enough- but I don't say the hell
with 'em, see?"
Dill and I said, "No sir."
"I try to give 'em a reason, you see. It helps folks if they can
latch onto a reason. When I come to town, which is seldom, if I
weave a little and drink out of this sack, folks can say Dolphus
Raymond's in the clutches of whiskey- that's why he won't change his
ways. He can't help himself, that's why he lives the way he does."
"That ain't honest, Mr. Raymond, making yourself out badder'n you
are already-"
"It ain't honest but it's mighty helpful to folks. Secretly, Miss
Finch, I'm not much of a drinker, but you see they could never,
never understand that I live like I do because that's the way I want
to live."
I had a feeling that I shouldn't be here listening to this sinful
man who had mixed children and didn't care who knew it, but he was
fascinating. I had never encountered a being who deliberately
perpetrated fraud against himself. But why had he entrusted us with
