To Kill a Mockingbird First Lines

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Can you name the To Kill a Mockingbird First Lines?

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First LineChapter
She stopped shyly at the railing and waited to get Judge Taylor's attention.
But someone was booming again.
My nagging got the better of Jem eventually, as I knew it would, and to my relief we slowed down the game for a while.
'Mr. Arthur, honey,' said Atticus, gently correcting me.
Jem was twelve.
Thomas Robinson reached around, ran his fingers under his left arm and lifted it.
'Come on round here, son, I got something that'll settle your stomach.'
For reasons unfathomable to the most experienced prophets in Maycomb County, autumn turned to winter that year.
Aunt Alexandra got up and reached for the mantelpiece.
After many telephone calls, much pleading on behalf of the defendant, and a long forgiving letter from his mother, it was decided that Dill could stay.
When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.
Catching Walter Cunningham in the schoolyard gave me some pleasure, but when I was rubbing his nose in the dirt, Jem came by and told me to stop.
'You can just take that back, boy!'
The weather was unusually warm for the last day of October.
'Put my bag in the front bedroom, Calpurnia,' was the first thing Aunt Alexandra said.
'Don't do that, Scout.'
First LineChapter
When Boo Radley shuffled to his feet, light from the livingroom windows glistened on his forehead.
Although we heard no more about the Finch family from Aunt Alexandra, we heard plenty from the town.
Jem stayed moody and silent for a week.
It was Jem's turn to cry.
'I wish Bob Ewell wouldn't chew tobacco,' was all Atticus said about it.
Jem heard me.
Dill left us early in September, to return to Meridian.
Things did settle down, after a fashion, as Atticus said they would.
The remainder of my schooldays were no more auspicious than the first.
Atticus was feeble; he was nearly fifty.
'Jem,' I said, 'are those the Ewells sittin' down yonder?'
Calpurnia wore her stiffest starched apron.
School started, and so did our daily trips past the Radley Place.
'Yes,' said our father, when Jem asked him if we could go over and sit by Miss Rachel's fishpool with Dill, as this was his last night in Maycomb.
When we were small, Jem and I confined our activities to the southern neighborhood, but when I was well into the second grade at school and tormenting Boo Radley became passe...

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