TO KILL A MOCKING BIRD

 

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."