“Who?” Jem was surprised.
Atticus’s eyes twinkled. “It’s not for me to say, but I’ll tell you this much. He was one of your old friends…”
“One of the Cunninghams?” Jem yelped. “One of – you’re jokin’.”
“Golly Moses,” Jem said . “One minute they’re tryin’ to kill Tom and the next they’re tryin’ to turn him loose… I’ll never understand those folks as long as I live.”
After Atticus left the room, I decided that I would be nice to Walter Cunningham from now on since someone in his family had been on the jury and wanted to set Tom free. I even said that I would invite him over to spend the night some time.
“We’ll see about that,” Aunt Alexandra said.
Surprised, I turned to her. “Why not, Aunty? They’re good folks.”
She looked at me over her glasses. “Jean Louise, there is no doubt in my mind that they’re good folks. But they’re not our kind of folks. You can scrub Walter Cunningham till he shines, you can put him in shoes and a new suit, but he’ll never be like Jem. Besides, there’s a drinking streak in that family a mile wide. Finch women aren’t interested in that sort of people.”
“If they’re good folks, then why can’t I be nice to Walter?”
“I didn’t say not to be nice to him. You should be friendly and polite to him, you should be gracious to everybody, dear. But you don’t have to invite him home.”
“But I want to play with Walter, Aunty, why can’t I?”
She took off her glasses and stared at me. “I’ll tell you why,” she said. “Because – he—is—trash, that’s why you can’t play with him. I’ll not have you around him, picking up his habits and learning Lord-knows-what. You’re enough of a problem to your father as it is.”
I was so angry and upset, but Jem put his arm around me and led me, sobbing in fury, to his room. He told me that Aunty was trying to make me into a lady and told me I should take up sewing or something.
