Убить пересмешника

           Mr.Averywaswedgedtightly.IburiedmyheadunderJem’sarmanddidn’tlookagainuntilJemcried,"He’sgotloose,Scout!He’sallright!"

           IlookeduptoseeMr.Averycrosstheupstairsporch.Heswunghislegsovertherailingandwasslidingdownapillarwhenheslipped.Hefell,yelled,andhitMissMaudie’sshrubbery.

           SuddenlyInoticedthatthemenwerebackingawayfromMissMaudie’shouse,movingdownthestreettowardus.Theywerenolongercarryingfurniture.Thefirewaswellintothesecondfloorandhadeatenitswaytotheroof:windowframeswereblackagainstavividorangecenter.

           "Jem,itlookslikeapumpkin—"

           "Scout,look!"

           SmokewasrollingoffourhouseandMissRachel’shouselikefogoffariverbank,andmenwerepullinghosestowardthem.Behindus,thefiretruckfromAbbottsvillescreamedaroundthecurveandstoppedinfrontofourhouse.

           "Thatbook..."Isaid.

           "What?"saidJem.

           "ThatTomSwiftbook,itain’tmine,it’sDill’s..."

           "Don’tworry,Scout,itain’ttimetoworryyet,"saidJem.Hepointed."Lookayonder."

           Inagroupofneighbors,Atticuswasstandingwithhishandsinhisovercoatpockets.Hemighthavebeenwatchingafootballgame.MissMaudiewasbesidehim.