"Old Mrs. Radley died that winter, but her death caused hardly a ripple—the neighborhood seldom saw her, except when she watered her cannas."
“The world’s endin‘, Atticus! Please do something—!” I dragged him to thewindow and pointed.“No it’s not,” he said. “It’s snowing.”
“Are we gonna have a snow baby, Jem?”“No, a real snowman. Gotta work hard, now.”
Smoke was rolling off our house and Miss Rachel’s house like fog off ariverbank, and men were pulling hoses toward them. Behind us, the fire truckfrom Abbottsville screamed around the curve and stopped in front of our house.
You were so busy looking at the fire you didn’t know it when he put the blanket around you.”