It began to be clear that she exulted in her large, coarse hands as being fitted for her work.
“Maybe mine will grow larger,” said Ellen.
“No, they won't. They'll grow all bony and knotty, but they won't grow any bigger.”
“Well, I shall have to get along with them the best way I can,” replied Ellen, rather impatiently. This girl was irritating to a degree, and yet there was all the time that vague dejection about her, and withal a certain childishness, which seemed to insist upon patience. The girl was really older than Ellen, but she was curiously unformed. Some of the other girls said openly that she was “lacking.”
“You act stuck up. Are you stuck up?” asked Mamie Brady, suddenly, after another pause.
Ellen laughed in spite of herself. “No,” said she, “I am not. I know of no reason that I have for being stuck up.”
“Well, I don't know of any either,” said the other girl, “but I didn't know. You sort of acted as if you felt stuck up.”
“Well, I don't.”
“You talk stuck up. Why don't you talk the way the rest of us do? Why do you say ‘am not,’ and ‘ar'n't’; why don't you say ‘ain't’?”
The girl mimicked Ellen's voice impishly.