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The Dandelion Girl by Robert F. YoungThe girl on the hill made Mark think of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Perhaps it was because of the way shewas standing there in the afternoon sun her dandelion-hued hair dancing in the wind perhaps it wasbecause of the way her old-fashioned white dress was swirling around her long and slender legs. In anyevent he got the definite impression that she had somehow stepped out of the past and into the presentand that was odd because as things turned out it wasnt the past she had stepped out of but the future.He paused some distance behind her breathing hard from the climb. She had not seen him yet and hewondered how he could apprise her of his presence without alarming her. While he was trying to makeup his mind he took out his pipe and filled and lighted it cupping his hands over the bowl and puffing tillthe tobacco came to glowing life. When he looked at her again she had turned around and was regardinghim curiously.He walked toward her slowly keenly aware of the nearness of the sky enjoying the feel of the windagainst his face. He should go hiking more often he told himself. He had been tramping through woodswhen he came to the hill and now the woods lay behind and far below him burning gently with the firstpale fires of fall and beyond the woods lay the little lake with its complement of cabin and fishing pier.When his wife had been unexpectedly summoned for jury duty he had been forced to spend alone thetwo weeks he had saved out of his summer vacation and he had been leading a lonely existence fishingoff the pier by day and reading the cool evenings away before the big fireplace in
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