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
'You can just take that back, boy!'
The remainder of my schooldays were no more auspicious than the first.
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...
It was Jem's turn to cry.
'Put my bag in the front bedroom, Calpurnia,' was the first thing Aunt Alexandra said.
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.
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.
Thomas Robinson reached around, ran his fingers under his left arm and lifted it.
Aunt Alexandra got up and reached for the mantelpiece.
'I wish Bob Ewell wouldn't chew tobacco,' was all Atticus said about it.
The weather was unusually warm for the last day of October.
For reasons unfathomable to the most experienced prophets in Maycomb County, autumn turned to winter that year.
'Don't do that, Scout.'
Jem was twelve.
Dill left us early in September, to return to Meridian.
Atticus was feeble; he was nearly fifty.
First LineChapter
Jem heard me.
Although we heard no more about the Finch family from Aunt Alexandra, we heard plenty from the town.
When Boo Radley shuffled to his feet, light from the livingroom windows glistened on his forehead.
Jem stayed moody and silent for a week.
Calpurnia wore her stiffest starched apron.
But someone was booming again.
School started, and so did our daily trips past the Radley Place.
When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.
'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.
She stopped shyly at the railing and waited to get Judge Taylor's attention.
'Jem,' I said, 'are those the Ewells sittin' down yonder?'
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.
'Mr. Arthur, honey,' said Atticus, gently correcting me.
Things did settle down, after a fashion, as Atticus said they would.
'Come on round here, son, I got something that'll settle your stomach.'

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