Old Mrs. Radley died that winter, but her death caused hardly a ripple—the neighborhood seldom saw her, except when she watered her cannas. Jem and I decided that Boo had got her at last, but when Atticus returned from the Radley house he said she died of natural causes, to our disappointment. “Ask him,” Jem whispered. “You ask him, you’re the oldest.” “That’s why you oughta ask him.” “Atticus,” I said, “did you see Mr. Arthur?” Atticus looked sternly around his newspaper at me: “I did not.”
