Scout's Monologue

My nose was nearly hafa' foot in the ground after I failed to scurry away from Scout Finch in the schoolyard. Scouts hand plowed me into the soil with as much force as a truck. At least itad' felt like that at the time.
"Stop it Scout, c'mon Scout, let 'em go."
The voice sounded like one of my classmates but I couldn't make it out as it trailed away with the wind. It came again but louder this time,
"Your bigger'n he is." The voice exclaimed louder this time.
I couldn't tell what Scout was sayin' back to that but knew it was sumtin' bout that lunch argument. The lunch confusion I should state as I aint do nuthin wrong. The pressure eased from my skull as I felt Scouts hand ease off my head. I locked my arms from the ground and pushed myself
Could be better though b’cause the Great Depression hit us hard. You know that, Right?”
“Certainly do Walter, we got hit badly too. Southeastern part of this here country and certainly in Alabama got knocked back quite badly. I’m lucky to still have a job due to the employment rate. That rate dropped down to the equator and in this state, this poor state, I’m surprised it’s still running.” We spoke a bit more to break the ice but then we got ready for supper. Scout got into her blue dress with a flower on it which was typical kind dress for a girl to wear to dinner at her age. Jem got into some trousers with a dark shirt and suspenders. I looked down and saw my baby blue overalls hanging over my shoulders with rips in them. I ignored it because I knew Atticus would know better than to be disappointed with me. The negro maid Calpurnia brought out a meal full of red meat, a baked potato, vegetables, and some biscuits. I hadn’t eaten anything since the scraps my pops put together for me last night so I was ready to dig in. The room was surrounded by blue walls and dimed lights. There were paintings of abstract art in the room and photos of famous singers and writers. I excused myself from the table to at least wash my hands before