That Girl of Johnson's — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

Lad 26 THAT GIRL OF JOHNSON’S. CHAPTER VI. A NEIGHBORLY GIFT. ‘Ht hev been so dry I’ lowed mebby ther gyarding hyar dedn’t ’mount ter much, bein’ as ye air up so high, sol bringed ye some strawb’ries outen our gyarding, D’lores. They’d never been no ’count neither ef Josiah ’n me hadn’t a-spent consid’rable time a-waterin’ of ’em. Gyard- ing truck springed up pretty middlin’ in ther spring, but ther dry spell hev knocked ther life outen et. So I kem in ter bring ye these.” “Thank you; our garden didn’t amount to much,” Dolores said, gravely. She looked at her neighbor without a sign of interest in her face; she spoke in her usual list- less manner; but under the listlessness and apparent care- lessness was the consciousness like a sharp sword, that the gift was the forerunner of something to follow else than her pleasure. She emptied the berries out of the basket into a dish and stood regarding them. Mrs. Smith said afterward she looked as though she were trying to discover if they might be “‘tetched.” In reality the girl did not even see them. She was wondering vaguely what the woman would say about the mare. That she had come for some purpose out- side of bringing the fruit was clear to her. During the twenty years of her life there had been a dry spell like this every summer; this gift of fruit was the first she had ever received. She waited with a sinking heart and strained ears for what the woman would say. She knew well that something must follow. That it was in regard to the mare of young Green she had notadoubt. Perhaps the sus- picion in regard to the guilty party had become a fact. Perhaps this woman had come to tell her—perhaps— Instinctively she glanced down toward the shop, The \. comicbooks:¢co m