EDGARA serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curledmy hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust ofmy mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness withher; swore as many oaths as I spake words, andbroke them in the sweet face of heaven: one thatslept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it:wine loved I deeply, dice dearly: and in womanout-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light ofear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth,wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling ofsilks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy footout of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy penfrom lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend.Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind:Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny.Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by.Storm still.
When he gave us our air-rifles Atticus wouldn’t teach us to shoot. Uncle Jack instructed us in the rudiments thereof; he said Atticus wasn’t interested in guns. Atticus said to Jem one day, I’d rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard, but I know you’ll go after birds. Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit ’em, but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird. That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked Miss Maudie about it. Your father’s right, she said. Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us.
Late in the afternoon of a chilly day in February, two gentlemen were sitting alone over their wine, in a well-furnished dining parlor, in the town of P——, in Kentucky. There were no servants present, and the gentlemen, with chairs closely approaching, seemed to be discussing some subject with great earnestness.