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To Kill a Mockingbird Book Page Inspirational Wall Art, Harper Lee Vintage Style Print Wall Decor
The opening lines to Harper Lee's classic To Kill a Mockingbird.
The full text is below.
MEDIUM: Fine art print (unframed)
SIZE: Please choose from drop down menu
•IMPORTANT Please note that if you purchase sizes 5x7 or 8x10 the writing will be very small on the print.
About your print:
Printed on Kodak Professional Endura Premier Lustre paper with a lustre finish that is closely related to Matte with a slight sheen.
It has an archival life of 100+ years. It arrives unmatted and unframed.
Please feel free to contact me should you have any questions regarding your order - email@example.com
This listing is for the print only, your item will be unframed.
**I ship from the UK & USA for faster delivery and cheaper postage!**
Get a custom / personalized poem print here: https://etsy.me/3usyHBT
"When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and Jem's fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury. His left arm was somewhat shorter than his right; when he stood or walked, the back of his hand was at right angles to his body, his thumb parallel to his thigh. He couldn't have cared less, so long as he could pass and punt.
When enough years had gone by to enable us to look back on them, we sometimes discussed the events leading to his accident. I maintain that the Ewells started it all, but Jem, who was four years my senior, said it started long before that. He said it began the summer Dill came to us, when Dill first gave us the idea of making Boo Radley come out.
I said if he wanted to take a broad view of the thing, it really began with Andrew Jackson. If General Jackson hadn't run the Creeks up the creek, Simon Finch would never have paddled up the Alabama, and where would we be if he hadn't? We were far too old to settle an argument with a fist-fight, so we consulted Atticus. Our father said we were both right.
Being Southerners, it was a source of shame to some members of the family that we had no recorded ancestors on either side of the Battle of Hastings. All we had was Simon Finch, a fur-trapping apothecary from Cornwall whose piety was exceeded only by his stinginess. In England, Simon was irritated by the persecution of those who called themselves Methodists at the hands of their more liberal brethren, and as Simon called himself a Methodist, he worked his way across the Atlantic to Philadelphia, thence to Jamaica, thence to Mobile, and up the Saint Stephens. Mindful of John Wesley's strictures on the use of many words in buying and selling, Simon made a pile practicing medicine, but in this pursuit he was unhappy lest he be tempted into doing what he knew was not for the glory of God, as the putting on of gold and costly apparel."
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