Any Writer Worth His Salt Writes To

We Said Good-bye, And Dill Went Inside The House. He Evidently Remembered He Was Engaged To Me, For He Ran Back Out And Kissed Me Swiftly In Front Of Jem. "yawl Write, Hear?" He Bawled After Us.

But Sometimes We Have To Make The Best Of Things, And The Way We Conduct Ourselves When The Chips Are Down.

I Remember When My Daddy Gave Me That Gun. He Told Me That I Should Never Point It At Anything In The House; And That He'd Rather I'd Shoot At Tin Cans In The Backyard. But He Said That Sooner Or Later He Supposed The Temptation To Go After Birds Would Be Too Much, And That I Could Shoot All The Blue Jays I Wanted - If I Could Hit 'em; But To Remember It Was A Sin To Kill A Mockingbird.

Neighbors Bring Food With Death And Flowers With Sickness And Little Things In Between. Boo Was Our Neighbor. He Gave Us Two Soap Dolls, A Broken Watch And Chain, A Pair Of Good-luck Pennies, And Our Lives. But Neighbors Give In Return. We Never Put Back Into The Tree What We Took Out Of It: We Had Given Him Nothing, And It Made Me Sad.

Folks Don't Like To Have Somebody Around Knowing More Than They Do.