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           "Isurewould.Atticuscan’tdoanything...."

           "You’dbesurprised,"saidMissMaudie."There’slifeinhimyet."

           "Whatcanhedo?"

           "Well,hecanmakesomebody’swillsoairtightcan’tanybodymeddlewithit."

           "Shoot..."

           "Well,didyouknowhe’sthebestchecker-playerinthistown?Why,downattheLandingwhenwewerecomingup,AtticusFinchcouldbeateverybodyonbothsidesoftheriver."

           "GoodLord,MissMaudie,Jemandmebeathimallthetime."

           "It’sabouttimeyoufoundoutit’sbecauseheletsyou.DidyouknowhecanplayaJew’sHarp?"

           Thismodestaccomplishmentservedtomakemeevenmoreashamedofhim.

           "Well..."shesaid.

           "Well,what,MissMaudie?"

           "Wellnothing.Nothing—itseemswithallthatyou’dbeproudofhim.Can’teverybodyplayaJew’sHarp.Nowkeepoutofthewayofthecarpenters.You’dbettergohome,I’llbeinmyazaleasandcan’twatchyou.Plankmighthityou."

           IwenttothebackyardandfoundJempluggingawayatatincan,whichseemedstupidwithallthebluejaysaround.