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“Dear sir,” said Jem. “We appreciate the — no, we appreciate everything which you have put into the tree for us. Yours very truly, Jeremy Atticus Finch.”
“He won’t know who you are if you sign it like that, Jem.”
Jem erased his name and wrote, “Jem Finch.” I signed, “Jean Louise Finch (Scout),” beneath it. Jem put the note in an envelope.
Next morning on the way to school he ran ahead of me and stopped at the tree. Jem was facing me when he looked up, and I saw him go stark white.
“
Scout!”
I ran to him.
Someone had filled our knot-hole with cement.
“Don’t you cry, now, Scout…don’t cry now, don’t you worry” he muttered at me all the way to school.
When we went home for dinner Jem bolted his food, ran to the porch and stood on the steps. I followed him. “Hasn’t passed by yet,” he said.
Next day Jem repeated his vigil and was rewarded.
“Hidy do, Mr Nathan,” he said.
“Morning Jem, Scout,” said Mr Radley, as he went by.
“Mr Radley, ah — did you put cement in that hole in that tree down yonder?”
“Yes,” he said, “I filled it up.”
“Why’d you do it, sir?”
“Tree’s dying. You plug ‘em with cement when they’re sick. You ought to know that, Jem.”
Jem said nothing more about it until late afternoon. When we passed our tree he gave it a meditative pat on its cement, and remained deep in thought. He seemed to be working himself into a bad humor, so I kept my distance.
As usual, we met Atticus coming home from work that evening. When we were at our steps, Jem said, “Atticus, look down yonder at that tree, please sir.”
“What tree, son?”
“That one on the corner of the Radley lot comin’ from school.”
“Yes?”
“Is that tree dyin’?”
“Why no, son, I don’t think so. Look at the leaves, they’re all green and full, no brown patches anywhere — "
"It ain't even sick?"
"That tree's as healthy as you are, Jem. Why?"
"Mr Nathan Radley said it was dyin'."
"Well maybe it is. I'm sure Mr Radley knows more about his trees than we do."
Harper Lee,
To Kill a Mockingbird (Mandarin, 1989)