The Dickinson press., 1915-09-25

meet IIlc "dppIOUdClOu VI CHe TcducIS
of the PRESS.
G. S. CRYNE.
1.-THE LINE RIDERS"
Sam Long and Ben Ballou were riding
line. for the Old Diamond W.
They both were young and had a good
deal yet to learn and see:
They were happy in the broadcast sense,
no heartbrcaks did they know,
But sorrow was coming to them, altho
twas coming slow.
The line they rode, was miles and miles
upon the prairie wide:
Twas on Il branch of Sun river beyond
the great divide:
An hundred miles of hill and dale, of
rocks. and streams. and sand:
An hundred miles of awful trail before
you reached Gods land.
But they were happy as two colts. until
one day there came
Tourists on Sun river to summer and
hunt big game:
and built their camp with care. 1850.
They had their women with them which
caused our boys to stare.
The Boys line-camp, as it happened, was
not half a mile away.
And when they had made their ride,
That these tourist people were having
fun, while they were all alone:
This to two healthy boys, was enough
to break q heart of stone.
But they planned, and planned, how
they could break the ice
OF their no acquaintance, and to these
folks seem nice:
They kept themselves as spick and
span. as ever they could be. :,
For well they knew the tourists would
want some day their camp to see.
And they were right. for up they came
one perfect night in June
When both the boys had their banjos
well in tune:
folks were something rare,
With money very plenty n not a
single care.
fine as fine could be-:
But were unacquainted with our boys
Doubtless they had read in books OF
cow-men on the range,
But they foun our boys SO different
that it seemed to them quite strange.
The boys were glad to welcome them
to what they had to show
And gave a little music. and when they
They asked It them to call again. and they
invited a return:
The boys both assured them tina their
invite they should not spurn.
So one night they tidied up. as cow-mcn
are wont to do,
AND saddled their best horses, the ones
they were proud to show,
And casually rode down the trail that
passed the camp in view.
Brave Sammy Long. the blond boy. and
his sun-browned pard Ballou.
Sam bestrode a handsome bay as ever
ate bunch-grass;
Ballou he rode "a buckskin. the finest in
his class:
Both men were finished riders, this fact
they knew with pride. 49,.
So like brave knights of olden time, this
evening they did ride.
They rode their ponies slowly until they
had crossed the stream,
And the tourists camp was plain in
sight, and lights began to gleam,
When al at once with reins held high,
they quick their spurs applied
Then with the cowboys stirring rush,
they into camp did ride.
The members Of the camp came out and
welcomed them within:
This brings us properly to where the
sorrow did begin:
and his brave pard Ballou.,
Got very. much the worst of it as I
shall plainly show.
Poor boys-the wiles of ome folks
they only knew from books.
And were ill prepared for siren forms
and looks:
Nor hau Ineir hearts been SCARED by
many a tout amain
Where society f1OutS the neart, ana love
Is sold for gain.
The men brought out their violins and
tuned them with much care. -.
While damsels clad in dainty white
fingered the light guitar:
An hour was passed the while in music's
pulsing trance,
When both our riders by maidens were
often asked to dance.
There was beautiful Kitty Dean. so like
q statue fair,
i And one was dark-eyed Bertha Moor,
she of the queenly air;
And one was Cleopatra. whose duskS
Like aGEs ggypt's lovely queen was crowned
with copper-colored hair.
No wonder when the morn had come
again with cold east wind and rain,
That the boys looked at each other ant
wished that ne'er again
Might they set eyes, or lovely form:
clad elegantly in white
The zest of range life all was gone
their spirits broken quite.
The ponie, and the saddle. and thu
slicker are their doom; =,
And many years of toll and strife m1t
was all they saw ahead of them, with n,
ones love or care
Their lots were hard-a lesson learned
they accepted then and there.
But never can they quite forget unit
the hour of death,
The rhapsodies of music and the cling
ing arms and BREATH.
Or Of beauties matchless forms whe1
gathered to the breast:
Go where they will, do what they may
range life has lost its zest.
Written at Westerlo, the authors HON
nigh Gladstone. N. Dak.. 1900.
GILBERT SANFORD CRYNE
Ola Kreine)