You goin to court this morning? asked Jem. We had strolled over.

I am not, she said. I have no business with the court this morning.

Arent you goin down to watch? asked Dill.

I am not. ts morbid, watching a poor devil on trial for his life. Look at all those folks, its like a Roman carnival.

They hafta try him in public, Miss Maudie, I said. Wouldnt be right if they didnt.

Im quite aware of that, she said. Just because its public, I dont have to go, do I?

Miss Stephanie Crawford came by. She wore a hat and gloves. Um, um, um, she said. Look at all those folksyoud think William Jennings Bryan was speakin.

And where are you going, Stephanie? inquired Miss Maudie.

To the Jitney Jungle.

Miss Maudie said shed never seen Miss Stephanie go to the Jitney Jungle in a hat in her life.

Well, said Miss Stephanie, I thought I might just look in at the courthouse, to see what Atticuss up to.

Better be careful he doesnt hand you a subpoena.

We asked Miss Maudie to elucidate: she said Miss Stephanie seemed to know so much about the case she might as well be called on to testify.

We held off until noon, when Atticus came home to dinner and said theyd spent the morning picking the jury. After dinner, we stopped by for Dill and went to town.

It was a gala occasion. There was no room at the public hitching rail for another animal, mules and wagons were parked under every available tree. The courthouse square was covered with picnic parties sitting on newspapers, washing down biscuit and syrup with warm milk from fruit jars. Some people were gnawing on cold chicken and cold fried pork chops. The more affluent chased their food with drugstore Coca-Cola in bulb-shaped soda glasses. Greasy-faced children popped-the-whip through the crowd, and babies lunched at their mothers breasts.

In a far corner of the square, the Negroes sat quietly in the sun, dining on sardines, crackers, and the more vivid flavors of Nehi Cola. Mr. Dolphus Raymond sat with them.

Jem, said Dill, hes drinkin out of a sack.

Mr. Dolphus Raymond seemed to be so doing: two yellow drugstore straws ran from his mouth to the depths of a brown paper bag.

Aint ever seen anybody do that, murmured Dill. How does he keep whats in it in it?

Jem giggled. Hes got a Co-Cola bottle full of whiskey in there. Thats sos not to upset the ladies. Youll see him sip it all afternoon, hell step out for a while and fill it back up.

Whys he sittin with the colored folks?

Always does. He likes em bettern he likes us, I reckon. Lives by himself way down near the county line. Hes got a colored woman and all sorts of mixed chillun. Show you some of em if we see em.

He doesnt look like trash, said Dill.

Hes not, he owns all one side of the riverbank down there, and hes from a real old family to boot.

Then why does he do like that?

Thats just his way, said Jem. They say he never got over his weddin. He was supposed to marry one of thethe Spender ladies, I think. They were gonna have a huge weddin, but they didntafter the rehearsal the bride went upstairs and blew her head off. Shotgun. She pulled the trigger with her toes.

Did they ever know why?

No, said Jem, nobody ever knew quite why but Mr. Dolphus. They said it was because she found out about his colored woman, he reckoned he could keep her and get married too. Hes been sorta drunk ever since. You know, though, hes real good to those chillun

Jem, I asked, whats a mixed child?

Half white, half colored. Youve seen em, Scout. You know that red-kinky-headed one that delivers for the drugstore. Hes half white. Theyre real sad.

Sad, how come?

They dont belong anywhere. Colored folks wont have em because theyre half white; white folks wont have em cause theyre colored, so theyre just in-betweens, dont belong anywhere. But Mr. Dolphus, now, they say hes shipped two of his up north. They dont mind em up north. Yonders one of em.