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           "Cal,"Iwhispered,"wherearethehymn-books?"

           "Wedon’thaveany,"shesaid.

           "Wellhow—?"

           "Sh-h,"shesaid.ReverendSykeswasstandingbehindthepulpitstaringthecongregationtosilence.Hewasashort,stockymaninablacksuit,blacktie,whiteshirt,andagoldwatch-chainthatglintedinthelightfromthefrostedwindows.

           Hesaid,"Brethrenandsisters,weareparticularlygladtohavecompanywithusthismorning.MisterandMissFinch.Youallknowtheirfather.BeforeIbeginIwillreadsomeannouncements."

           ReverendSykesshuffledsomepapers,choseoneandhelditatarm’slength."TheMissionarySocietymeetsinthehomeofSisterAnnetteReevesnextTuesday.Bringyoursewing."

           Hereadfromanotherpaper."YouallknowofBrotherTomRobinson’strouble.HehasbeenafaithfulmemberofFirstPurchasesincehewasaboy.ThecollectiontakenuptodayandforthenextthreeSundayswillgotoHelen—hiswife,tohelpheroutathome."

           IpunchedJem."That’stheTomAtticus’sde—"

           "Sh-h!"

           IturnedtoCalpurniabutwashushedbeforeIopenedmymouth.Subdued,IfixedmyattentionuponReverendSykes,whoseemedtobewaitingformetosettledown."Willthemusicsuperintendentleadusinthefirsthymn,"hesaid.