That Girl of Johnson's — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THAT GIRL OF JOHNSON’S, 13 CHAPTER III. HER LEARNING, Dolores was sitting on the door-step one evening. Her father was at the tavern as usual, and as her household duties were finished she sat in the mellow moonlight that flooded the mountain with radiance. She was no longer listless. Her lips were parted ; her eyes larger and darker than usual; her face, raised to the starry heavens, was full of light. On her knees lay an old astronomy, and one slender finger marked the place of her reading. - In the distance a faint blue haze marked the pines ina cloudy mystery. A night-bird whirred past her; a katydid chirped ; afar in the valley a cow bell tinkled ; in the pines on the bank beside her a pigeon cooed. As in & dream she heard them; she was lost in studying the heavens. Venus was hanging in the west above the - mountain; the milky-way trailed across the sky like a vail of haze with its millions of tiny atoms. She was lost to herself and her surroundings; she did not hear the heavy footsteps approaching along the narrow path ; she saw nothing until a rough hand pulled the book from under her fingers. A deep oath smote the air. She knew who it was without looking up, and the light died out of her face and eyes. She leaned back against the door, her hands falling naturally in a listless attitude in her lap. “‘Curse ye!” her father muttered, between his clenched teeth. ‘‘Curse ’em as invented books an’ learnin’! Thes is ther way ye waste yer time while lam away. Thesis why ye air so everlastin’ dumb as nobody ken a-nigh ye, an’ why ther ain’t more a-doin’ et ther shop. Ef ye’d talk to ther men an’ ’tract ’em they’d kem oft’ner’n theys do— thar hosses’d cast mo’ shoes, an’ I’d make mo’ money, Gomicbooks (ee)