necked
gingham apron was as becoming to her as it is to all nice girls. She was
thoroughly awake, was Nancy, and there could not have been a greater
contrast than that between her and the comatose Lallie Joy, who sat on a
wooden chair with her feet on the side rounds. She had taken off her
Turkey red sunbonnet and hung it on the chair-back, where its color
violently assaulted her flaming locks. She sat wrong; she held the
potato pan wrong, and the potatoes and the knife wrong. There seemed to
be no sort of connection between her mind and her body. As she peeled
potatoes and Nancy seeded raisins, the conversation was something
like this.

"How did you chance to bring the butter to-day instead of to-morrow,
Lallie Joy?"

"Had to dress me up to go to the store and get a new hat."

"What colored trimming did you get?"

"Same as old."

"Don't they keep anything but magenta?"

"Yes, blue."

"Why didn't you try blue for a change?"

"Dunno; didn't want any change, I guess."

"Do you like magenta against your hair?"

"Never thought o' my hair; jest thought o' my hat."

"Well, you see, Lallie Joy, you can't change your hair, but you needn't
wear magenta hats nor red sunbonnets. Your hair is handsome enough, if
you'd only brush it right."

"I guess I know all 'bout my hair and how red 't is. The boys ask me if
Pop painted it."

"Why do you strain it back so tight?"

"Keep it out o' my eyes."

"Nonsense; you needn't drag it out by the roots. Why do you tie the
braids with strings?"

"'Cause they hold, an' I hain't got no ribbons."

"Why don't you buy some with the money you earn here?"

"Savin' up for the Fourth."

"Well, I have yards of old Christmas ribbons that I'll give you if
you'll use them."

"All right."

"What do you scrub your face with, that makes those shiny knobs stick
right out on your forehead and cheek bones?"

"Sink soap."

"Well, you shouldn't; haven't you any other?"

"It's upstairs."

"Aren't your legs in good working order?"

Uncomprehending silence on Lallie Joy's part and then Nancy returned to
the onslaught.

"Don't you like to look at pretty things?"

"Dunno but I do, an' dunno as I do."

"Don't you love the rooms your father has finished here?"

"Kind of."

"Not any more than that?"

"Pop thinks some of 'em's queer, an' so does Bill Harmon."

Long silence, Nancy being utterly daunted.

"How did you come by your name, Lallie Joy?"

"Lallie's out of a book n