To Kill A Mocking Bird Blog Post 3

Journal #3

Chapters 10-12

Perspective of Jem

Dear Journal,
Boy have we had some things happen this past few months! First off, I learned that my daddy is "One Shot Finch". Scout and me were complainin' to Miss Maudie 'bout how Atticus is older than most of our contemporaries' fathers. Miss Maudie wasn't really helping the cause, and as that disappointed me, we dropped the subject. I was ready to accept that my dad was just not young anymore, but then one day, old Tim Johnson, Mr. Harry Johnson's dog, came into the picture. Scout an' me were playing about 500 yards down from the Radley Place and we see a dog walking towards us. He was far away then, but somethin' was wrong, you could tell. So we told Cal. Upon further examination, we found out that Tim Johnson was a mad dog. A mad dog! In February! I couldn't believe it, but I trusted Cal, who told all the neighbors and told Atticus to call the sheriff and come home. Atticus showed up minutes later, in Sheriff Heck Tate's car. They pulled up so the car was perpendicular to the street. They stood behind it. When the mad dog got close enough, the sheriff took aim. He couldn't do it fast enough, and soon Tim Johnson was at the Radley gate. Heck Tate told Atticus the dog was too close, and said Atticus had to do it. Atticus refused at first but did as he was told. He shot Tim Johnson right between the eyes. He was dead accurate. Of course this made Scout want to brag to all her schoolyard friends, but I wisely told her no, if Atticus wanted us to know and brag about this, he would have told us sooner. I was bursting with pride about it, but it was Atticus' talent and I guess he has a right to share it with who he wants.
That old, mean, cantankerous, Mrs. Dubose died the other day. Man did she make my blood boil. That woman was the meanest, nastiest, most disgusting woman that ever lived. She would demean me an' Scout, but ATticus would tell us to keep our chins up, hold our heads high, we were Finches. I tried to restrain myself, I really did, but she knew how to push my buttons. She said that Atticus was no better than the niggers and trash he worked for and that made me red with anger. We were on our way into town, so on our way back out, we passed her house. She wasnt outside, so in a fit of rage, I grabbed Scout's baton, and used it to cut off all the buds on her stupid, precious camellias. Then I broke Scout's baton over my knee and left it in Mrs. Dubose front yard. Meanwhile, Scout was screaming, so I pulled her hair, kicked her and then felt bad, so I picked her up. But I walked away, knowing I was in deep trouble. When Atticus got home, he asked to talk to me. He told me I had to go talk to Mrs. Dubose. Mrs. Dubose said that I had to read to her for two hours every single day of the week! Imagine That! And shes suh an ugly old witch that I didn't want to go anywhere near her, but Atticus made me. After five weeks, she told me I was done. Hurray! I was free! But, one day, when Atticus got home, he went straight to her house. He didn't come home 'til later, and when he did, he told me she had died. She had told Jessie to give me a candy box. Inside the box was one white, smooth little camellia bud. Oh how this angered me! She made my blood boil yet again! That hell devil had wanted punish me even after she was dead! I hated that old woman, but Atticus said she died with a free spirit, and that's what matters.