Dill

Dill's voice was his own again: "Oh, they ain't mean. They kiss you and hug you good night and good mornin' and good-bye and tell you they love you- Scout, let's get us a baby."

"Where?"

There was a man Dill had heard of who had a boat that he rowed across to a foggy island where all these babies were' you could order one-

"That's a lie. Aunty said God drops 'em down the chimney. At least that's what I think she said." For once, Aunty's diction had not been to clear.

"Well that ain't so. You get babies from each other. But there's this man, too- he has all these babies just waiting' to wake up, he breathes life into 'em. ..."

Dill was off again. Beautiful things floated around his dreamy head. He could read two books to my one, but he preferred the magic of his own inventions. He could add and subtract faster than lightning, but he preferred his own twilight world, a world where babies slept, waiting to be gathered like morning lilies. He was slowly talking himself to sleep and taking me with him, but in the quietness of his foggy island there rose faded image of a gray house with sad brown doors."

To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee