Luke is plowing a field next to a dirt road. Each

Luke is plowing a field next to a dirt road. Each time he 
comes to the end of a furrow near the road, he has a chance 
to exchange a few words with his neighbor Zeke, who is 
leaning against a split rail fence, corncobs pipe in mouth, 
resting from the exercise he is getting from watching Luke 
and his mule till the field. 

"Luke, you aim to stop fer lunch?" 

"Naw, ditn' have time to fix nawtn ter brang." 

"Iffn yer twas to marry my little Marylou, she larn'd to fix 
a mean lunch since her maw died, what with me and her 
five brothers to feed." 

"Yer daughter gittin right up in years, must be purty near 
12 now, I reckon?" 

"Nope, just passed 13. And still a virgin." 

"Whelp, rat dere is good 'nuf reason fer me to turn her 
down, iffin yer was offer'n her hand." 

"How you reckon that Luke? What with the wash'n, 'n 
cookin', gardn'g, sew'n, and pig 'n chicken rais'n, she 
hasn't no time fer cort'n no man." 

"Wal Zeke, what with you and the boys not havn' no 
maw on the farm, I jest recon if Marylou isn't good nuff 
fer you, probly ain't good nuff fer me nether."