"No, I haven't."
"Didn't you notice how affected she is?"
"No more than any other girl."
"Oh, thank you! So you think I'm affected."
"Not especially. But everybody is, one way or another--even the animals
and the birds."
"Really! And what is my affectation?"
"I don't know, and I wouldn't tell you if I did. What's Miss
Terriberry's?"
"Didn't you dahnce with her?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's it."
"What's that?"
"She says 'dahnce,' doesn't she?"
"I believe she does."
"Well, she used to say 'dannce' like the rest of us."
"What of it? Is it a sin to change?"
"It's an affectation."
"Why? Is education an affectation?"
"Oh! so you call the rest of us uneducated?"
"For Heaven's sake, no! You know too much, if anything. But what has
that to do with Miss Terriberry?"
Because their minds were at such loggerheads their feet could not keep
measure. They dropped out of the dance and sought the porch, while Tudie
raged on:
"She has no right to put on airs. Her father is no better than mine. Who
is she, anyway, that she should say 'dahnce' and 'cahn't' and
'chahmed'?"
Orson was amazed at the depths of bitterness stirred up by a mere
question of pronunciation. He answered, softly: "Some of the meekest
people in the world use the soft 'a.' I say 'dahnce.'"
"Oh, but you can't help saying it."
"Yes, I could if I tried."
"But you were born where everybody talks like that. Em was born out
here."
"She has traveled, though."
"So have I. And I didn't come back playing copy-cat."
"It's natural for some people to mimic others. She may not be as
strong-minded as you are." He thought that rather diplomatic. "Besides
'dannce' and 'cann't' aren't correct."
"Oh yes, they are!"
"Oh no, they're not! Not by any dictionary ever printed."
"Then they'd better print some more. Dictionaries don't know everything.
They're very inconsistent."
"Naturally."
"Now you say 'tomahto' where I say 'tomayto.'"
"Yes."
"Why don't you say 'potahto'?"
"Because nobody does."
"Well, nobody that was born out here says 'dahnce' and 'cahn't.'"
"But she's been East and in Europe, and--where's the harm of it, anyway?
What's your objection to the soft 'a'?"
"It's all right for those that are used to it."
"But you say 'father.' Why don't you say 'rather' to rhyme with it?"
"Don't be foolish."
"I'm trying not to be."
"Well, then, don't try to convince me that Em Terriberry is a wonderful
creature because she's picked up a lot of foreign mannerisms and comes
home thinking she's better than the rest of us. We'll show her--the
conceited thing! Her own father and mother are ashamed of her, and
Arthur is so disgusted the poor boy doesn't know what to do. I think he
ought to give her a good talking to or break off the engagement."
Orson sank back stunned at the ferocity of her manner. He beheld how
great a matter a little fire kindleth. It was so natural to him to speak
as Miss Terriberry spoke that he could not understand the hatred the
alien "a" and the suppressed "r" could evoke among those native to the
flat vowel and the protuberant consonant. He was yet to learn to what
lengths disputes could go over quirks of speech.