"That infant yonder," hissed the fleshy girl.
"What about her?" Ruth asked. "I'm rather sorry for that little Gregg. She doesn't look happy."
"Say!" chuckled Heavy. "She tried for an hour yesterday to coax electricity into the bulb over her table, and then went to Miss Scrimp and asked for a candle. She got the candle, and burned it until one of the other girls looked in (you know she's not 'chummed' with anybody yet) and showed her where the push-button was in the wall. And at that," finished Heavy, grinning broadly, "I'm not sure that she understood how the 'juice' was turned on. She must have come from the backwoods."
"Hush!" begged Ruth. "Don't let her think we're laughing at her."
"Miss Scrimp's very strict about candles and oil lamps," said Nettie. "We use them a lot in the South."
"That old house of yours in 'So'th Ca'lina' must be a funny old place, Nettie," said Heavy.
"It isn't ours," Nettie said. "The cotton plantation belongs to Aunt Rachel. She was born on it—the Merredith Place. We usually go there for the early summer, and then either come No'th, or into the mountains of Virginia until cool weather. My own dear old Louisiana home isn't considered healthy for us during the extreme hot weather. It is too damp and marshy."
"'Way down Souf in de land ob cotton—
Cinnamon seed an' sandy bottom!'"
hummed Heavy. "Oh! I wish I was in Dixie—right now."
"Wait till my Aunt Rachel comes up here," Nettie promised. "I'm going to beg an invitation for you girls to visit Merredith."