I received a paper, yes,Perhaps he considers himself the sheriff . . . I have no taxes in Jefferson
But we have. We are the city authorities, Miss Emily. Didn’t you get a notice from the sheriff, signed by him
See Colonel Sartoris.” (Colonel Sartoris had been dead almost ten years.) “I have no taxes in Jefferson. Tobe!” Show these gentlemen out.
A neighbor, a woman, complained to the mayor, Judge Stevens, eighty years old.
“Why, send her word to stop it,” the woman said. “Isn't there a law?”
“But what will you have me do about it, madam?” he said.
“It’s simple enough,” he said. “Send her word to have her place cleaned up. Give her a certain time to do it in, and if she don’t . . .”
The next day he received two more complaints,#160;
“Dammit, sir,” Judge Stevens said, “will you accuse a lady to her face of smelling bad?”
So the next night, after midnight, four men crossed Miss Emily's lawn and slunk about the house like burglars, sniffing along the base of the brickworkThey broke open the cellar door and sprinkled lime there, and in all the outbuildings.
That was when people had begun to feel really sorry for her.
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