"Here I've been settin', waitin' for my breakfast, since before six, and it's almost seven now."
"Never mind," the girl returned, kindly; "I'll get it ready just as quickly as I can."
"I was just sayin'," Grandmother continued when Aunt Matilda came into the room, "that it beats all how Rosemary can sleep. I've been up since half-past five and she's just beginnin' to get breakfast, and here you come, trailin' along in with your hair not combed, at ten minutes to breakfast time. I should think you'd be ashamed."
"My hair is combed," Matilda retorted, quickly on the defensive.
"I don't know when it was," Grandmother fretted. "I ain't seen it combed since I can remember."
"Then it's because you ain't looked. Any time you want to see me combin' my hair you can come in. I do it every morning."
Fluffy Hair
Grandmother laughed, sarcastically. "'Pears like you thought you was one of them mermaids I was readin' about in the paper once. They're half fish and half woman and they set on rocks, combin' their hair and singin' and the ships go to pieces on the rocks 'cause the sailors are so anxious to see 'em they forget where they're goin'."
"There ain't no rocks outside my door as I know of," Matilda returned, "and only one rocker inside."
"No, nor your hair ain't like theirs neither. The paper said their hair was golden."