“Lavin-ee!”
“Well?”
“You come right down hyeer an’ help me em’ty this renchin’-water. I’d like to know what’s got into you! A-stayin’ upstairs half your time, an’ just a-mopin’ around when you are down. You ain’t b’en worth your salt lately!”
The girl came into the kitchen slowly. “What you jawin’ about now, maw?” she said, smiling.
“I’ll show you what I’m a-jawin’ about, as you call it. Take holt o’ this tub an’ help me em’ty this renchin’-water.”
“Well, don’t holler so; Mr. Diller’ll hear you.”
“I don’t care ’f he does hear me. I can give him his come-up’ans if he goes to foolin’ around, listenin’. I don’t care ’f he does write for a paper in New York! You’ve got to take holt o’ the work more’n you’ve b’en lately. A-traipsin’ around all over the country with him, a-showin’ him things to write about an’ make fun of! I sh’u’d think Bart Winn had just about got enough of it.”
“I wish you’d keep still about Bart Winn,” said Lavinia, impatiently.
“Well, I ain’t a-goin’ to keep still about him.” Mrs. Vaiden poured the dish-water into the sink and passed the dish-cloth round and round the pan, inside and outside with mechanical care, before she opened the back door and hung it out on the side of the house. “I guess I don’t haf to ask you when I want to talk. There you was—gone all day yeste’day a-huntin’ star-fish, an’ that renchin’-water a-settin’ there a-ruinin’ that tub because I couldn’t em’ty it all myself. Just as if he never saw star-fish where he come from. An’ then to-day—b’en gone all the mornin’ a-ketchin’ crabs! How many crabs ’d you ketch, I’d like to know!”
“We didn’t ketch many,” said Lavinia, with a soft, aggravating laugh. “The water wa’n’t clear enough to see ’em.”