He spoke this word with a peculiar rising inflection, but she did not catch the significance of the question, and replied, "Yes. He is tall and thin and black and slab-sided. That's me, too, except I am short yet; but I expect I will grow. Besides, I've got the Catt inside of me. I scratch like fury when I am mad. Now Tom doesn't get mad, though his name is almost, or just, as bad as mine."
"What do you get mad at?"
"Lots of things, but 'specially my name. Folks make such fun of it and say the hatefullest rhymes, and when they do that I just light into them with my fists."
"And you a girl!"
"I am always sorry afterwards, but then it is too late to help it. I've got to learn to let them tease without getting mad at all and then they won't torment me, but it is a mighty hard thing to do, I think. I've been trying for twelve years now and it is almost as bad as ever. Tom says I am doing splendidly, but he doesn't know how often I get mad."
"Where is Tom?"
"Going to college at Reno."
"College, eh? He's a smart boy, is he?"
"Yes, indeed! We're both smart." He laughed at her naive reply, and her face flushed, but she continued convincingly, "I am almost as far as I can get in school here. I am ready for Latin. Mrs. Carson says if I can't go to boarding school next fall, she will teach me herself, so I can keep up with Carrie."
"Why didn't you go this year?"