Chapter 3 contains an interesting excerpt—the passage below—which further illuminates the relationship between Atticus and his children. Scout uses metaphor to describe her father’s manner of speaking:
Jem and I were accustomed to our father’s last-will-and-testament diction, and we were at all times free to interrupt Atticus for a translation when it was beyond our understanding. “Huh, sir?”
Scout likens her father's diction to that of a will—which, undoubtedly, is a type of document he is accustomed to reading and creating. Atticus is a man who both speaks somberly and commands a large vocabulary, both details that make Scout’s metaphor an apt one. The comparison emphasizes just how much Atticus's profession as a lawyer affects his speech and mannerisms. Interestingly, he refuses to dumb down his speech when talking to Scout or Jem, treating them as capable of understanding complex ideas with a little explanation. It is because Atticus does not condescend to them that Jem and Scout respect him.
Atticus is also modeling important behavior for his children, demonstrating that they should not change their values or personality constantly to cater to others. Regardless of who he is speaking to, Atticus comports himself the same, refusing to alter his vocabulary even when speaking to children.
In Chapter 3, another conflict occurs in Scout’s school classroom. Her teacher, upon discovering that one of the Ewell boys has lice, attempts to send him home to get clean. Scout soon learns that the Ewells are only required to come to school on the first day, in large part because the school system is unable to control them. Still indignant over her previous issues with her teacher, Scout confronts Atticus, begging him to let her not go to school. Using metaphor, Atticus takes time to explain to Scout why the Ewells are an exception:
They were people, but they lived like animals. “They can go to school any time they want to, when they show the faintest symptom of wanting an education,” said Atticus. “There are ways of keeping them in school by force, but it’s silly to force people like the Ewells into a new environment—”
Atticus humorously uses metaphor to describe the Ewells' relationship to education. It would be highly abnormal for any of them to willingly show up to school; so much so, in fact, that Atticus likens such a scenario to illness, describing the inclination towards education as a "symptom." Through this discussion with Scout, Atticus suggests that the Ewells' survival is more important than following arbitrary rules.
In the following excerpt from Chapter 9, Scout uses metaphor to describe the effect her cousin Francis has on conversation:
Talking to Francis gave me the sensation of settling slowly to the bottom of the ocean. He was the most boring child I ever met.
This line succinctly provides characterization for both Scout and Francis: Scout is hotheaded and impatient as a child and has little tolerance for feelings of boredom or frustration. Where an average child might simply ignore Francis, Scout seems deeply offended by the fact that her cousin is boring. She illustrates this feeling of boredom by metaphorically evoking the feeling of sinking slowly to "the bottom of the ocean," thus inviting readers to feel alongside her the heaviness of boredom.
This passage demonstrates that Scout—having been raised by Atticus—is intelligent, creative, and often much more perceptive than her peers. She has little patience for ignorance and has yet to develop a conversational filter, stating aloud the things that Atticus or another adult might only think. She, like Atticus, has principles and cares deeply about injustice. Francis, on the other hand, is the mirror image of his mother. He cares more about appearances than any kid should, as evidenced by his Christmas wish list—all "sophisticated" clothing, no toys. In different ways, Francis and Scout both reflect the values they were taught.
Towards the end of Chapter 9, Scout eavesdrops on a conversation between her father and her uncle, Jack. The two men discuss Scout's behavior: at Aunt Alexandra's house, she got in trouble for assaulting her cousin over a series of insults leveled against Atticus. Hoping his daughter will overhear, Atticus deploys an important metaphor in his conversation with Jack.
You know what’s going to happen as well as I do, Jack, and I hope and pray I can get Jem and Scout through it without bitterness, and most of all, without catching Maycomb’s usual disease. Why reasonable people go stark raving mad when anything involving a Negro comes up, is something I don’t pretend to understand . . .
In the above passage, Atticus uses metaphor to equate the pervasive racism in Maycomb to a disease—detrimental, communicable, and difficult to eradicate. The fact that Scout overhears this conversation is important: Atticus is preparing her for the injustices to come, shedding light on the town's problems in a way that a child can understand. It is crucial that Scout understand, whether through direct or indirect means of communication, that racism may be normalized in her town, but that racist behavior is by no means an acceptable way to treat people. Using metaphor, Atticus delivers this key lesson to Scout, aware that she is eavesdropping.
In the following piece of dialogue from Chapter 9, Francis argues with Scout, insulting Atticus for stepping up to defend Tom Robinson. Francis uses metaphor as a means of bringing Scout and Jem down, implying that they are on the same "low" level as certain people they keep company with:
If Uncle Atticus lets you run around with stray dogs, that’s his business, like Grandma says, so it ain’t your fault. I guess it ain’t your fault if Uncle Atticus is a nigger-lover besides, but I’m here to tell you it certainly does mortify the rest of the family—
Francis utilizes metaphor to dehumanize the people Scout surrounds herself with (Dill, Calpurnia, Tom Robinson, etc.) by referring to them as "stray dogs". This comment is intended to dehumanize both Scout and Jem by proxy, making them animalistic by association.
The above excerpt ends up being Scout's final straw, inciting her to take violent physical action against her cousin. Crucially, she recognizes that the "stray dog" comparison is dehumanizing and loathes having it directed against her and her family. Dehumanizing others inevitably leads to marginalization, which Scout experiences a form of within her own community. Learning how this rhetoric is harmful is an important part of Scout's growth.
In Chapter 9, Scout details repeated conflicts with the more conservative members of her family, including Aunt Alexandra. The following excerpt outlines one such conflict, centered around a specific metaphor:
Aunt Alexandra’s vision of my deportment involved playing with small stoves, tea sets, and wearing the Add-A-Pearl necklace she gave me when I was born; furthermore, I should be a ray of sunshine in my father’s lonely life. I suggested that one could be a ray of sunshine in pants just as well, but Aunty said that one had to behave like a sunbeam, that I was born good but had grown progressively worse every year.
Scout clashes with her Aunt over the use of the word "sunbeam" as a metaphor to describe her behavior—or, rather, what her behavior should be. Aunt Alexandra wants Scout to be nice and complacent, still and bright, causing no trouble. Scout, of course, chafes against this notion of ladylikeness, as she does against any societal convention she considers irrational or unjust.
Curiously, a younger Scout fails to comprehend the meaning behind her aunt’s metaphors, approaching the situation as only a child would. In her mind, being a “ray of sunshine” has nothing to do with clothing. Scout instinctively rejects these social conventions, both because she is annoyed by them and because Aunt Alexandra appears irrational to her.
In the following passage from the end of Chapter 25, Scout interprets the outcome of Tom Robinson's case and Atticus's role in the proceedings. She uses metaphor to do so, describing what she believes to be the reason that Robinson lost:
Then Mr. Underwood’s meaning became clear: Atticus had used every tool available to free men to save Tom Robinson, but in the secret courts of men's hearts Atticus had no case. Tom was a dead man the minute Mayella Ewell opened her mouth and screamed.
Scout uses the poignant image of a "secret court" existing within the hearts of individuals, relating this to the concept of conscience. In this "secret court," the law does not, in fact, apply; rather, prejudice, preference, and herd mentality are prone to take root, corrupting justice.
It is important to note that this metaphor not only ties the courtroom to conscience, but also acknowledges the unspoken rules that accompany prejudice. The court is "secret," hinting at the fact that everyday assumptions perpetuate racism, even if that racism is not made extremely explicit. Racist assumptions are an "open secret": children learn these biases by observing adult behavior, not through direct instruction. In the eyes of this "secret court," the trial was over before it began.