The girl reddened and produced a card with everything up to date and two dollars below the amount in her pay envelope.
“You better take a week off,” said Hap. But he repented later in the afternoon and took it back, only he told her to be more careful.
It was the bundler who took me under her wing that first day—pretty Mamie O'Brien—three generations in the Falls. There was no talk of vamping, no discussions of beaus. Everyone told everything she had done since Saturday noon.
“Hey, Margaret, didjagototha movies Saturday night?”
“Sure. Swell, wasn't it?”
“You said it. I 'ain't ever saw sweller....”
“I seen Edna's baby Sunday. Awful cute. Had on them pink shoes Amy made it....”
“Say, ain't that awful about Mr. Tinney's grandchild over to Welkville! Only lived three hours....”
“They're puttin' in the bathtub at Owenses'....”
“What dya know! After they got the bathroom all papered at Chases' they found they'd made a mistake and it's all got to be ripped down. Bathtub won't fit in.” (“Improvements” were one of the leading topics of conversation day in and day out at the Falls.)