I know what you mean, boy, said a voice behind us. We thought it came from the tree-trunk, but it belonged to Mr. Dolphus Raymond. He peered around the trunk at us. You arent thin-hided, it just makes you sick, doesnt it?

20

Come on round here, son, I got something thatll settle your stomach.

As Mr. Dolphus Raymond was an evil man I accepted his invitation reluctantly, but I followed Dill. Somehow, I didnt think Atticus would like it if we became friendly with Mr. Raymond, and I knew Aunt Alexandra wouldnt.

Here, he said, offering Dill his paper sack with straws in it. Take a good sip, itll quieten you.

Dill sucked on the straws, smiled, and pulled at length.

Hee hee, said Mr. Raymond, evidently taking delight in corrupting a child.

Dill, you watch out, now, I warned.

Dill released the straws and grinned. Scout, its nothing but Coca-Cola.

Mr. Raymond sat up against the tree-trunk. He had been lying on the grass. You little folks wont tell on me now, will you? Itd ruin my reputation if you did.

You mean all you drink in that sacks Coca-Cola? Just plain Coca-Cola?

Yes maam, Mr. Raymond nodded. I liked his smell: it was of leather, horses, cottonseed. He wore the only English riding boots I had ever seen. Thats all I drink, most of the time.

Then you just pretend youre half? I beg your pardon, sir, I caught myself. I didnt mean to be

Mr. Raymond chuckled, not at all offended, and I tried to frame a discreet question: Why do you do like you do?

Whoh yes, you mean why do I pretend? Well, its very simple, he said. Some folks dontlike the way I live. Now I could say the hell with em, I dont care if they dont like it. I do say I dont care if they dont like it, right enoughbut I dont say the hell with em, see?

Dill and I said, No sir.

I try to give em a reason, you see. It helps folks if they can latch onto a reason. When I come to town, which is seldom, if I weave a little and drink out of this sack, folks can say Dolphus Raymonds in the clutches of whiskeythats why he wont change his ways. He cant help himself, thats why he lives the way he does.

That aint honest, Mr. Raymond, making yourself out baddern you are already

It aint honest but its mighty helpful to folks. Secretly, Miss Finch, Im not much of a drinker, but you see they could never, never understand that I live like I do because thats the way I want to live.

I had a feeling that I shouldnt be here listening to this sinful man who had mixed children and didnt care who knew it, but he was fascinating. I had never encountered a being who deliberately perpetrated fraud against himself. But why had he entrusted us with his deepest secret? I asked him why.

Because youre children and you can understand it, he said, and because I heard that one

He jerked his head at Dill: Things havent caught up with that ones instinct yet. Let him get a little older and he wont get sick and cry. Maybe thingsll strike him as beingnot quite right, say, but he wont cry, not when he gets a few years on him.

Cry about what, Mr. Raymond? Dills maleness was beginning to assert itself.

Cry about the simple hell people give other peoplewithout even thinking. Cry about the hell white people give colored folks, without even stopping to think that theyre people, too.

Atticus says cheatin a colored man is ten times worse than cheatin a white man, I muttered. Says its the worst thing you can do.

Mr. Raymond said, I dont reckon itsMiss Jean Louise, you dont know your pas not a run-of-the-mill man, itll take a few years for that to sink inyou havent seen enough of the world yet. You havent even seen this town, but all you gotta do is step back inside the courthouse.

Which reminded me that we were missing nearly all of Mr. Gilmers cross-examination. I looked at the sun, and it was dropping fast behind the store-tops on the west side of the square. Between two fires, I could not decide which I wanted to jump into: Mr. Raymond or the 5th Judicial Circuit Court. Cmon, Dill, I said. You all right, now?