Difficult
Words and Meanings
1. Oblivious
(adjective): unaware or unconscious of something. In this context, Atticus is
unaware of the night bugs dancing over his head.
2. Propped
(verb): supported or leaned something against something else. Here, Atticus is
sitting with his back against the front door.
3. Bare bulb
(noun): an unshaded or uncovered light bulb. The light from the bare bulb
illuminates Atticus sitting against the door.
4. Made to
run (phrase): tried to run or attempted to run. Jem caught the narrator as they
tried to run towards Atticus.
5. Short cut
(noun): a shorter route or path. The narrator and Jem were taking a shortcut
across the square.
6. Dusty
(adjective): covered with dust or dirt. The cars that came in from the Meridian
highway were dusty.
7.
Deliberately (adverb): intentionally or on purpose. Atticus folded his
newspaper deliberately before dropping it in his lap.
8. Sneaked
(verb): moved quietly or stealthily. Jem and the narrator sneaked across the
square to get closer to the jail.
9. Discreet
(adjective): careful or subtle in one's actions. They tried to get near enough
to see what was happening without being noticed.
10.
Substance (noun): a solid or material thing. As the men got out of the cars,
their shadows became solid shapes in the light.
1.
Sickeningly comic (adjective): a situation that is ironically or absurdly
humorous, despite being serious or unpleasant.
2.
Near-whispers (noun): soft, quiet voices, almost but not quite whispering.
3. Succinct
(adjective): brief and to the point, without unnecessary words.
4. Snipe
hunt (noun): a wild goose chase or a practical joke where people are given an
imaginary task.
5. A'that
(phrase): a colloquial or dialectical way of saying "of that" or
"about that".
6.
Somebody's man would get jumped (phrase): someone would get into trouble or be
physically harmed.
7. Broke
away (verb): suddenly moved away from someone or something.
8. Dark
smelly bodies (phrase): a group of people who are crowded together and have a
strong, unpleasant odor.
9. Killed my
joy (phrase): took away my happiness or excitement.
10.
Lingering fingers (phrase): fingers that move slowly and carefully, often with
a sense of reluctance or sadness.
11. Budging
(verb): moving or changing position, often used to describe someone who is
stubborn or resistant.
12. Mutual
defiance (phrase): a situation where two people are standing up to each other,
often with a sense of stubbornness or resistance.
13. Burly
(adjective): large and strong, often used to describe someone who is physically
imposing.
1. Yanked
(verb): pulled or jerked suddenly and forcefully.
2.
Barefooted (adverb): without shoes on one's feet.
3. Pleading
justification (phrase): arguing that one's actions are justified or reasonable.
4. Assembly
(noun): a group of people gathered together, often for a specific purpose.
5.
Sullen-looking (adjective): having a sulky or unfriendly appearance.
6.
Entailment (noun): a legal restriction on property, often limiting its use or
inheritance.
7. Friendly
overture (phrase): a gesture or attempt to be friendly or approachable.
8. Fallen
flat (phrase): failed to have the desired effect or response.
9. Futility
(noun): the state of being useless or ineffective.
10. Chance
acquaintance (phrase): someone one meets by chance, rather than through a
deliberate effort.
11.
Last-ditch effort (phrase): a final or desperate attempt to achieve something.
12.
Aggregation (noun): a group of people or things gathered together.
13.
Fascination (noun): a state of being extremely interested or attracted to
something.
Meanings
1. Uncouth
(adjective): lacking refinement or good manners, often used to describe
behavior or appearance.
2. Drying up
(phrase): losing one's train of thought or faltering in speech.
3. Idiocy
(noun): foolish or absurd behavior.
4. Impassive
(adjective): showing no emotion or expression.
5. Peculiar
(adjective): unusual or unexpected.
6.
Ramshackle (adjective): in a state of disrepair or needing maintenance, often
used to describe old or worn-out vehicles.
7.
Going-over (phrase): a thorough cleaning or inspection, often used to describe
a quick wipe or cleaning of one's face.
Difficult
Words and Meanings of the text
peeked up: quickly looked over
shadows
became substance: here,
people could
be seen clearly
a
sickeningly comic aspect of an unfunny situation: here. a funny side of a situation that was not funny at all
Heck's
bunch: people belonging to the group led
by Heck
snipe hunt: a wild goose chase; a practical
joke by giving people an imaginary task
succinct: to the point
a'that: of that
It do: here, it does
somebody's
man would get jumped:
here, somebody would get into trouble
his face
killed my joy: the look on
his face took my happiness away
cheerful
acquiescence: to happily
submit and accept without questioning
mutual
defiance: here, their resistance towards each
other
yanked: pulled
in view of
his prospects: in view of
what was in store for him
entailment: limitations or restrictions imposed
on property
my friendly
overture had fallen flat:
here, my first move towards making friends hadn't succeeded
last-ditch
effort: a last desperate attempt
aggregation: here, a group that had come
together
uncouth: crude and unrefined
slowly
drying up: here, not talking any longer
impassive: expressionless
shuffled: moved with short sliding steps
ramshackle: in bad shape and needing repair
Character
Descriptions
1. Scout
(Jean Louise Finch): The narrator, a young girl who is curious, determined, and
fiercely protective of her family. She is also naive and sometimes speaks her
mind without thinking.
2. Atticus
Finch: Scout's father, a lawyer who is calm, wise, and morally upright. He is
trying to protect Tom Robinson from a lynch mob.
3. Jem:
Scout's older brother, who is also fiercely protective of his family and wants
to help his father. He is stubborn and sometimes defies Atticus's instructions.
4. Mr.
Cunningham: A local farmer who is part of the mob that has come to lynch Tom
Robinson. However, when Scout talks to him, he shows a softer side and
eventually decides to disperse the mob.
5. Tom
Robinson: A black man who has been accused of a crime and is being held in
jail. He is the target of the lynch mob and is being protected by Atticus.
6. Dill:
Scout and Jem's friend, who is visiting from out of town. He is curious and
wants to help Atticus, but is also scared of the mob.
7. Heck
Tate: The sheriff of the county, who is mentioned as being supposedly on his
way to the jail, but is actually on a "snipe hunt" with his men.
8. Walter
Cunningham Jr.: Mr. Cunningham's son, who is mentioned as being in Scout's
grade at school and having been brought home for dinner by the Finches.
Summary
The scene
unfolds as Atticus Finch sits outside the jailhouse, guarding Tom Robinson, a
black man falsely accused of a crime. Scout, Jem, and Dill follow Atticus to
the jail, unaware of the danger that awaits them. When they arrive, they see a
group of men, including Mr. Cunningham, gathered outside the jail, intent on
lynching Tom.
As the
tension builds, Scout's innocence and childlike perspective lead her to
approach Mr. Cunningham, whom she knows from her interactions with his son,
Walter. Despite the volatile atmosphere, Scout's conversation with Mr.
Cunningham humanizes him, and he begins to see the situation from a different
perspective.
Through
Scout's conversation, Mr. Cunningham's demeanor changes, and he eventually
decides to disperse the mob. The men, who had been intent on taking the law
into their own hands, quietly leave the scene, and the tension is diffused.
Throughout
the scene, Atticus's character is showcased as calm, brave, and morally
upright. He stands firm in his determination to protect Tom, despite the danger
posed by the mob. Scout's admiration for her father is evident, and her actions
inadvertently help to resolve the situation.
The scene
highlights the themes of racial tension, injustice, and the loss of innocence.
It also showcases the complex relationships between characters, particularly
between Scout and her father, Atticus, and between Scout and Mr. Cunningham.
Text
A long
extension cord ran between the bars of a second-floor window and down the side
of the building.
In the light
from its bare bulb, Atticus was sitting propped against the front door. He was
sitting in one of his office chairs and he was reading, oblivious of the night
bugs dancing over his head.
I made to run but Jem caught me. "Don't
go to him," he said. "He might not like it. He's all right, let's go
home. I just wanted to see where he was."
We were
taking a short cut across the square when four dusty cars came in from the
Meridian highway, moving slowly in a line. They went around the square, passed
the bank building, and stopped in front of the jail.
Nobody got
out. We saw Atticus look up from his newspaper. He closed it, folded it
deliberately, dropped it in his lap, and pushed his hat to the back of his
head.
He seemed to
be expecting them.
"Come
on," whispered Jem.
We sneaked
across the square, across the street, until we were in the shelter of the
Jitney Jungle door. Jem peeked up the sidewall.
"We can
get closer," he said.
We ran to
Tyndal's Hardware door-near enough, at the same time discreet.
In ones and
twos, men got out of the cars. Shadows became substance as light revealed solid
shapes moving towards the jail door. Atticus remained where he was.
The men hid
him from view.
"He in
there, Mr Finch?" a man said.
"He is,
“we heard Atticus answer, "and he's asleep. Don't wake him up.”
In obedience
to my father, there followed what I later realized was a sickeningly comic
aspect of an unfunny situation-the men talked in near-whispers.
“You know
what we want," another man said. "Get aside from the door, Mr
Finch."
"You
can turn around and go home again, Walter, Atticus said pleasantly. "Heck
Tate's around somewhere."
"The
hell he is," said another man.
"Heck's
bunch's so deep in the woods they won't get out till morning."
"Indeed?
Why so?"
"Called
'em off on a snipe hunt," was the succinct answer. "Didn't you think
a'that, Mr Finch!"
"Thought
about it, but didn't believe it. Well, then, my father's voice was still the
same, "that changes things, doesn't it?"
"It
do," another deep voice said. Its owner was a shadow.
"Do you
really think so?"
This was the
second time I heard Atticus ask that question in two days, and it meant
somebody's man would get jumped. This was too good to miss. I broke away from
Jem and ran as fast as I could to Atticus.
Jem shrieked
and tried to catch me, but I had a lead on him and Dill. I pushed my way
through dark smelly bodies and burst into the circle of light.
"Hey,
Atticus?"
I thought he
would have a fine surprise, but his face killed my joy. A flash of plain fear
was going out of his eyes, but returned when Dill and Jem wriggled into the
light.
When I
glanced around, I discovered that these men were strangers. They were not the
people I saw last night. Hot embarrassment shot through me-I had leaped
triumphantly into a ring of people I had never seen before.
Atticus got
up from his chair, but he was moving slowly, like an old man. He put the
newspaper down very carefully, adjusting its creases with lingering fingers.
They were
trembling a little.
"Go
home, Jem," he said. "Take Scout and Dill home."
We were
accustomed to prompt, if not always cheerful acquiescence to Atticus's
instructions, but from the way he stood, Jem was not thinking of budging.
"Go
home, I said."
Jem shook
his head. As Atticus's fists went to his hips, so did Jem's and as they faced
each other, I could see little resemblance between them: Jem's soft brown hair
and eyes, his oval face and snug-fitting ears were our mother's, contrasting
oddly with Atticus' greying black hair and square-cut features, but they were
somehow alike. Mutual defiance made them alike.
"Son, I
said go home."
Jem shook
his head.
"I'll
send him home," a burly man said, and grabbed Jem roughly by the collar.
He yanked Jem nearly off his feet.
"Don't
you touch him!" I kicked the man swiftly. Barefooted, I was surprised to
see him fall back in real pain. I intended to kick his shin, but aimed too
high.
"That'll
do, Scout." Atticus put his hand on my shoulder.
"Don't
kick folks. No….." he said, as I was pleading justification." Ain't
nobody gonna do Jem that way," I said.
"All
right, Mr Finch, get'em outa here," someone growled. "You got fifteen
seconds to get'em outa here."
In the midst
of this strange assembly, Atticus stood trying to make Jem mind him. "I
ain't going," was his steady answer to Atticus's threats, requests, and
finally, "Please, Jem, take them home."
I was
getting a bit tired of that, but felt Jem had his own reasons for doing as he
did, in view of his prospects once Atticus did get home. I looked around the
crowd. It was a summer's night, but the men were dressed, most of them, in
overalls and denim shirts buttoned up to the collars. I thought they must be
cold-natured, as their sleeves were unrolled and buttoned at the cuffs. Some
wore hats pulled firmly down over their ears. They were sullen-looking,
sleepy-eyed men, who seemed unused to late hours. I sought once more for a
familiar face, and at the centre of the semicircle I found one.
"Hey,
Mr Cunningham."
The man did
not hear me, it seemed.
"Hey,
Mr Cunningham. How's your entailment gettin' along?"
Mr Walter
Cunningham's legal affairs were well known to me; Atticus had once described
them at length. The big man blinked and hooked his thumbs in his overall
straps. He seemed uncomfortable; he cleared his throat and looked away My
friendly overture had fallen flat.
Mr
Cunningham wore no hat, and the top half of his forehead was white in contrast
to his sun-scorched face, which led me to believe that he wore one most days.
He shifted his feet, clad in heavy work shoes.
"Don't
you remember me, Mr Cunningham?
I'm Jean
Louise Finch. You brought us some hickory nuts one time, remember?" 1
began to sense the futility one feels when unacknowledged by a chance
acquaintance.
"I go
to school with Walter, 1 began again. "He's your boy, ain't he? Ain't he,
sir?"
Mr
Cunningham was moved to a faint nod. He did know me, after all.
"He's
in my grade," I said, "and he does right well. He's a good boy,"
I added.
"a real
nice boy. We brought him home for dinner one time. Maybe he told you about me.
I beat him up one time but he was real nice about it. Tell him hey for me,
won't you?"
Atticus had
said it was the polite thing to talk to people about what they were interested
in, not about what you were interested in. Mr Cunningham displayed no interest
in his son, so I tackled his entailment once more in a last-ditch effort to
make him feel at home.
"Entailments
are bad," I was advising him, when I slowly awoke to the fact that I was
addressing the entire aggregation. The men were all looking at me, some had
their mouths half-open. Atticus had stopped poking at Jem-they were standing
together besides Dill. Their attention amounted to fascination. Atticus' mouth,
even, was half-open, an attitude he had once described as uncouth. Our eyes met
and he shut it.
"Well,
Atticus, I was just sayin' to Mr Cunningham that entailments are bad an' all
that, but you said not to worry, it takes a long time sometimes … that you
all'd ride it out together …"1 was slowly drying up, wondering what idiocy
I had committed.
Entailments
seemed all right enough for living-room talk.
I began to feel sweat gathering at the
edges of my hair; I could stand anything but a bunch of people looking at me.
They were quite still.
"What's
the matter?" I asked.
Atticus said
nothing. I looked around and up at Mr Cunningham, whose face was equally
impassive. Then he did a peculiar thing. He squatted down and took me by both shoulders.
"I'll
tell him you said hey, little lady," he said. Then he straightened up and
waved a big paw.
"Let's
clear out," he called. "Let's get going, boys."
As they had
come, in ones and twos, the men shuffled back to their ramshackle cars. Doors
slammed, engines coughed, and they were gone.
I turned to
Atticus, but Atticus had gone to the jail and was leaning against it, with his
face to the wall. I went to him and pulled his sleeve. "Can we go home
now?"
He nodded,
produced his handkerchief, gave his face a going-over and blew his nose
violently.
"Mr
Finch?"
A soft husky
voice came from the darkness above, "They gone?"
Atticus
stepped back and looked up.
"They've
gone," he said. "Get some sleep, Tom. They won't bother you anymore."
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