The Monmal (Dillon, Mont.) 1906-1918, May 01, 1918, Image 16

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18 THE MONMAL. the whole canyon; and Radish most strangely was taking a deep interest in this “ girl’s game.” For he was riding in his best cow­ boy fashion the tree next to Molly’s. So it went the whole happy day. Radish, acting very much like a sad martyr to some disagreeable cause, stayed close to Molly’s side. During the picnic lunch he took two of each thing that was passed and then would decide that he wanted only one. Molly “had just as well take the other.” Molly was content with this rather doubtful gallantry. Her day was so much nicer than she had planned that she was satisfied. Late afternoon came all too swiftly for every youngster in the canyon. Long before there was any hint of darkness, the distracted grown-ups were rounding up the children, scattered far and wide. They knew from bitter experience that they must begin to start the children for home in order to escape the dusk, which falls so suddenly in the mountains. Before it came time for the hay racks to start, over half of the children had started down the canyon on foot, some planning to walk all the way home, others to catch the hayracks at the canyon’s mouth. Among those walking were Radish and Molly. “You goin’ to walk clear home?” asked Radish casually. “No, I guess not. My feet kinda hurt,” replied Molly, quite as casually. “ I should think you could walk it easy, from the way you can run,” Radish could not keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice. ‘‘Me run!” Molly laughed a little. “ I ’d a had a fine chance of beating if you had really tried to run, wouldn’t I ? I could tell you weren’t running as fast as you could.” The idea had never oc­ curred to Molly before; but now, as it flashed in her mind, she really believed it. “Why didn’t you run faster? I wouldn’t mind if you beat me.” Radish’s chest swelled perceptibly. “ Shucks! I ain’t goin’ to beat no girl in a race. It ain’t —ain’t—er—er—polite.” Molly beamed. “ I knew you had a reason. And that’s such a nice one, too. I never knew you were so polite.” So the two walked on and on. Now the last cloud to blot their happiness had been brushed away. But a tragedy awaited them at the mouth of the canyon. All the hayracks were gone!

The Monmal (Dillon, Mont.), 01 May 1918, located at <>, image provided by MONTANA NEWSPAPERS, Montana Historical Society, Helena, Montana.