mr. finch, mr. tate said, he fell on his knife. he killed himself. atticus walked to the corner of the porche, looked at the with styria, and in his own way, each was as stubborn as the other. i wondered who would give in first, and stubbornness, was quiet and really haven't been is in some ways he was as said as the cunninghams. mr. tate was and schools and blunt but equal to my father's. heck, atticus at back was turned, it will be a simple denial to jem of the way i tried to raise him. sometimes i think i am a total failure as a parent but i am all they have got. before jem books at anyone else he looks at me and i try to live so i can look squarely back at him. frankly i couldn't meet his eye and the day i can't do that i know i have lost him. i don't want to lose him and stop because they are all i have got. mr. finch, mr. tate was still planted to the floorboards, bob fell on his knife. i can prove it. atticus wheeled around, his hand the in his pockets. can't you even try to see it my way? you have got children of your own but i am older than