Or take this—
"I can't be in six or seven places at one; I'm not omnivorous—you know what I mean."
An extreme view
Of course everyone knows what she means.
They call her Mrs. Malaprop; but, in point of fact, her case is a notable improvement upon that of Sheridan's heroine, the ignorance of that lady having been of a shade by just so much deeper that it left her unwitting of the fact that she was wrong. The girl here in view has a shrewd suspicion that she is wrong, but pays her hearers the compliment of assuming that they will understand her. In only one instance, so far as has come to my knowledge, has she ever overtaxed her listener's powers of comprehension. She spoke of a living novelist.
"I can't bear his books," she said. "They're so very femme de chambre—you know what I mean."
Not only did the person addressed not know what she meant, but he will not now be induced to believe that she meant "fin de siècle," and unconsciously used what, it seems to some of us, was a very happy substitute for this rather hackneyed phrase.
I have in the foregoing dwelt more particularly on what is to me the most striking fact in connection with the vulgar girl, the base uses to which she puts her native speech; that my account of her may not, however, be wholly inadequate, I have also conferred with persons whose views on manners and deportment, as frequently expressed by them, have led me to believe that they may be better able than I am to point out what, from the social standpoint, constitutes a vulgar girl. Of the many data supplied me, I give below a few.
The vulgar girl is "arch."