Sheridan High School - Bronc Yearbook (Sheridan, WY)

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THE 0CKSHEPER1DA old answer, let’s see what the “passers by,” as O. Henry says, (“God knows there’s no place to pass but by”) think of him. Dick was good natured, twenty-five, good looking, heavy about the shoulders, blonde and talkative; an apt American boy. He wore the inevitable neatly cut blue serge, cheerful red tie with brazen chrysanthemums adorning it; shoes stylish and exaggerated. ‘‘Boss made me awful sore last night. Mol, got sassy y’ know and asked me a hundred an’ one unnecessary questions, air if I hadn’t a knowed it ’ud put our Wednesday night movies and Sunday trips to Coney on the blink, Fd a give it to him! And when he as’t me if I was takin’ that box t’ the shij)ping clerk I’da said, ‘Me, sure not—can’t y see I’ve got a divin’ suit on, and that I’m just unhitchin’ my, Zepplin from the door knob of the white house so I can teach the dragon flies how to swim.’ Oh! all the gab I gotta take from those fella’s Mol, and if it wasn’t for a certain little Jane I’d be a throwin’ the blame job up!” “Sure. Dick, an’ I know just how y’ feel, but I wouldn’t be atall surprised if yuh got a raise n’ get promoted to the shippin’ department; cause you’re sa strong n’ sa smart!!!” They boarded the car at Forty-second street. “I hate t’ leave y’ here kid, but I gotta hurry. I can’t afford to be late if I want a promotion. S’long little Jane.” “S’long Dick.” “Meet y’ tonight here, Molly.” “Hl’o, Molly kid.” “I saw y’ today, Dick, takin’ that blonde t’ lunch.” Dick, tactlessly and enthusiastically, “Yes, she’s a purty good sort, always takes my part when the lioss is rampagin’. She’s a good looker too, pretty hair and—oh—she’s got a nifty line of talk. Kinda’ kid like and mighty becomin’.” Molly gasped and a look of acute pain passed

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THE OCKSHEPERIDA “How many times,” she said meaningly, “have I told you not to feed that dog at the table; y’ teach him to steal an’ t‘ be a nuisance. Y’ know she stole that sixty cent hunk of meat off the cabinet when I went to see Mrs. Jones Saturday. I’ve a good notion t’ get rid of her even if you do pay the tax.” After breakfast Molly stepped out on the fire escape and her eyes sought furtively the building opposite—now the second story—now third, then sixth window to the right, until they rested on an ice pick to the right of the aforesaid window. “Oh,” she murmured, “ice pick to the right, yes that means I’ll be waiting on the corner to meet you.” Molly donned her stylish little hat and jacket, adjusted a hair pin more satisfactorily, kissed her admiring father and held out a soiled silk waist. “If y’ get time, ma, I wish y’d wash this as I might—, I might go t’ the movies t'night!” “There v’ go again, me a drudgin’ in the kitchen n’ washin’ fer you n’ you agoin’ round with green young fellas’ t’ shows. Say. Molly child, button up yer coat, tain’t spring yet; it’s real chilly out ain’t it, Pa?” Wistfully fingering the dainty garment, she said, “Didn’t y’ like the way I ironed the lace on that Georgette one, Molly, kinda made it stand out.” “Yes, Ma, that looked awful pretty. Dick thought so too; n’ if yer too tired n’ yer headache’s worse don’t bother to wash the waist but take a walk in the park.” And then shyly, “I thought the toast was awful good this morning, Ma.” “Good bye Molly.” “Good bye.” Dick was on the corner to meet her. “You’re looking mighty nifty this mornin’, little Jane, with that classy little lid over one ear,” was his enthusiastic comment. Now while she’s blushing and saying the same

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THE OCKSHEPERIDA her lovely face. She recovered herself quickly and a defiant look crept into the wide hurt eyes as she said listlessly. “Well, if she’s sa much to the mustard why don’t y’ hook up?” Dick looked surprised at this outburst, but determined to see if she meant it and said flippantly “Might take that advice, Molly, yer advice always comes straight from the shoulder.” With elalx rate carelessness, “Oh, by the way, Dick, I can’t go t’ the movie t’night; ma’s headache is worse n’ usual n’ she‘ll want me t’ home. An’ l)esides it’ll suit you letter anyway, l ecause you can go with your cute good lookin’ little blonde.” She walked airily away, tossing her lovely, glowing head and left a bewildered, peni-tent young man moaning. “Well, what in thunder, Molly, have 1 done now ? Well she doesn’t need to fly off the handle like that; of me speakin’ well of a mighty good friend and a darn good lookin’ girl! If she does give a cent for me, why in heck does she act like that and if she doesn’t, the little experiment I’m going to try won’t hurt her.” Next Sunday Dick took the blonde to Coney and as fate would have it, met the furious Molly with the floor walker at Maccy’s. Molly passed the couple without glancing in their direction, but she knew exactly how the blonde was dressed and saw through Dick’s assumed gaiety. She made mental note of the woman’s appearance. “Blonde, twenty-eight, j eroxide and a combination of Booth Tark-ington’s baby talk girl and any commonplace, nearly thirty, man-hunting creature.” Meanwhile the “other woman” said, “red haired, common featured, fiery tempered, rather cute looking girl, but not at all the woman for Dick.” (Rivals always say the other one is not the perfect soulmate). She also resolved to get acquainted with this red haired creature, as she might have some very useful information.