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           MissCaroline,whydon’tyoureadusastory?Thatcatthingwasrealfinethismornin’....

           MissCarolinesmiled,blewhernose,said,"Thankyou,darlings,"dispersedus,openedabookandmystifiedthefirstgradewithalongnarrativeaboutatoadfrogthatlivedinahall.

           WhenIpassedtheRadleyPlaceforthefourthtimethatday—twiceatafullgallop—mygloomhaddeepenedtomatchthehouse.Iftheremainderoftheschoolyearwereasfraughtwithdramaasthefirstday,perhapsitwouldbemildlyentertaining,buttheprospectofspendingninemonthsrefrainingfromreadingandwritingmademethinkofrunningaway.

           Bylateafternoonmostofmytravelingplanswerecomplete;whenJemandIracedeachotherupthesidewalktomeetAtticuscominghomefromwork,Ididn’tgivehimmuchofarace.ItwasourhabittorunmeetAtticusthemomentwesawhimroundthepostofficecornerinthedistance.Atticusseemedtohaveforgottenmynoontimefallfromgrace;hewasfullofquestionsaboutschool.Myrepliesweremonosyllabicandhedidnotpressme.

           PerhapsCalpurniasensedthatmydayhadbeenagrimone:sheletmewatchherfixsupper."ShutyoureyesandopenyourmouthandI’llgiveyouasurprise,"shesaid.

           Itwasnotoftenthatshemadecracklingbread,shesaidsheneverhadtime,butwithbothofusatschooltodayhadbeenaneasyoneforher.SheknewIlovedcracklingbread.

           "Imissedyoutoday,"shesaid."Thehousegotsolonesome‘longabouttwoo’clockIhadtoturnontheradio."