Sheridan High School - Bronc Yearbook (Sheridan, WY)

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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.

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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 Molly rather neglected Mr. Jones and in spite of her anger toward Dick, wondered whether he would buy the blonde a little bunch of violets. As they passed again she saw with relief that the blonde did not wear violets. Dick rather neglected the blonde and in spite of his anger toward Molly, wondered if Jones would take her out in one of those “gondolas” and try to make love to her. And then he discovered that he had always disliked and distrusted this Jones. Finally he submerged in a sea of the cloying sweetness of her baby talk and longed for Molly as a life giving oasis or firm fresh island. He invented an excuse to take the blonde home early. That night he went down to the pool hall to “drive dull care away” and see the “fella’s” and finally he spied Slim and took him aside and said, “She’s down on me Slim, and as Ex-President Taft says, “God only knows what fer.” And then he related as much of the fateful quarrel as he could rememl er. “Oh, ain't I in a hell of a fix. Slim? Ain’t I? I’m tired of cheap Bohemia, blondes, resting my feet on brass rails, poker. What I want is real life with an A No. I little red headed Jane as a partner!” “Poor guy, lie’s got it bad,” his companion sobbed from time to time as he told of the virtues of this heavenly girl. Slim promised to do his share toward effecting a reconciliation. When Molly got home that Sunday she felt an even greater resentment toward the recreant Dick. She had made up her mind she was going to forget him. So she took all the keepsakes of their friendship, a dried rose, two or three notes, a bunch of withered violets and an old dance program, where she had first met him, and ruthlessly burned them in the kitchen stove. Then she told herself even more energetically that she was going