After a moment I had realized that they were simply playing a game! My father has cemented up the tree, however. Once inside I peer out my window at the young boy grabbing his pants. The kid who came back for his pants must have been terrified after thinking he was being shot at. Some were thoughtful, others probably a bit creepy, such as the soap figures of themselves. They knew Atticus was helping Tom Robinson. Write your secret diary entry about how you have been punished and kept in a virtual prison for fifteen years.
Then again he never cared much for children. Oh well, life goes on. I just couldn't let the poor girl freeze to death in from of my house. At first, after a couple of days punishment, it thought I would be finally set free by father. Journal 2: Dear Diary, There is this knothole in front on my house by some tree, so I thought It would be a smart idea to put two pieces of gum inside so Jem and Scout could find it.
There is no hope of excitement in this house, absolutely nothing to do at all. They don't know if I'm an ugly man. It has been so very long since my father first locked me up in this house. The little girl folded herself into the tire. A bunch of cars started to pull up with people who all had guns. Other things were a part of me. Awestruck, their little game is over.
Stephanie Crawford, who demonises Boo as a monster and also a large proportion of the community who, for example, will not eat the nuts produced by the tree on the Radley's property as they will be poisoned. Next thing I knew I was in Atticus Finch's house in a small room on the second floor. Surprisingly, the children were hoping to meet Boo one day, despite being afraid of him. She wanted to interact with him in more than the childish ways Jem and Dill and. I think about how people are getting along in Maycomb as I see them walk quite briskly in front of our house and I think about my father and what he did to me.
I hadbeen wearing a ham costume that did not fit very well and had been crushed when I fell before. Neither of them may have realized how much they cared for each other, but the readers they knew. Foronce Aunt Alexandra had a look of understanding on her face. Throughout the novel, Scout gave Boo friendship, a connection to the outside world, and privacy. Considering the fact that Scout had run away from the two boys shortly after Atticus left made it seem like they were done mocking me.
It had been so long since I had felt like that and that instinctual need to let my laughter bubble up, and overflow out of my mouth had overcome me. I knew he was going to be fine, and I think Scout did now too. I saw three of them. Let them think I'm dangerous. I decided to record some of my feelings into a diary so someone would always know how I am feeling. I have tried communicating with Jem and Scout, by leaving them a trinket or two in the knot-hole of one of the live oaks out the front of our house at night time. I really like to hear how much the story changes once it passes through several people.
I was correct- as the weeks turned into months, I understood how cruel my father was and that my punishment would last forever. I haven't laughed that much since before I was locked up. I jammed it up into his heart. He represents anyone who needs help. I felt a sense of happiness come over me when I gave her the blanket.
Scout and Boo had secret friendship. I didn't care that he would be furious if I came out of my house and kill a man. They made my life slightly better by giving me things to watch, smile, and laugh at. Every summer wewould spend hours on end thinking about what Boo Radley was doing in that basementof his. I was fairly certain one of the children would see the things as they passed by my house coming back from school.
The next morning life returned back to normal. The words the people in the room were saying didn't comprehend in my mind. Boo went back to his house and Jemonly had a slightly broken arm. He ran as fast as he could up to the house and touched the paneling. One little mistake and one decision. Luckily nobody was hurt but it was still a sad day in ourneighborhood.
After a year or two, my father died. Two carved dolls, mean't to match their likeness. Harper Lee chose this title wisely as it is a metaphor for the theme of the book. That would not have been cool with me. In his hands were a troul and a box of cement. No doubt the note was for me. I mean, I was only a teenager having fun, I did not do anything serious or anything.