"If you are a-goin' to cut it at all, you had better cut it right." "I don't care how I cut it," returned Eva, thrusting the woman away.
"Oh, I don't care how I cut it; I want to waste it.

I will waste it." The other neighbor backed entirely out of the room, then turned and fled across the yard, her calico wrapper blowing wildly and lashing about her slender legs, to her own house, the doors of which she locked.

Presently the other woman followed her, stepping with the ponderous leisure which results from vastness of body and philosophy of mind.

The autumn wind, swirling in impetuous gusts, had little effect upon her broadside of woollen shawl.

She had not come out on that raw evening with nothing upon her head.