By contrast with most of her neighbors, she seemed comfortable.
"Sim Burns, what you ben doin' to that woman ?" she burst out, as she waddled up to where the two men were sitting under a cottonwood tree, talking and whittling after the manner of farmers.
"Nawthin' 's fur 's I know," answered Burns, not quite honestly, and looking uneasy.
"You needn't try t' git out of it like that, Sim Burns," replied his sister.

"That woman never got into that fit f'r _nawthin_'." "Wall, if you know more about it than I do, whadgy ask _me_ fur ?" he replied, angrily.
"Tut, tut!" put in Councill, "hold y'r horses! Don't git on y'r ear, children! Keep cool, and don't spile y'r shirts.

Most likely you're all t' blame.

Keep cool an' swear less." "Wai, I'll bet Sim's more to blame than she is.

Why, they ain't a harder-workin' woman in the hull State of Ioway than she is"---- "Except Marm Councill." "Except nobody.