Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

Monday's mops and pails broke in upon the spell of Amarilly's spiritual

enchantment to some extent, but remembrance of the scenic effects

lingered and was refreshed by the clothes-line of vestal garb which

manifested the family prosperity, and heralded to the neighborhood that

the Jenkins's star was in the ascendant.

"Them Jenkinses," said Mrs. Hudgers, who lived next door, "is orful

stuck up sence they got the sudsin' of them surpluses."

This animadversion was soon conveyed to Amarilly, who instantly and

freely forgave the critic.

"She's old and rheumatic," argued the little girl. "She can't git to go

nowhars, and folks that is shut in too long spiles, jest like canned

goods. Besides, her clock has stopped. Nobody can't go on without no

clock."

Out of pity for the old woman's sequestered life, Amarilly was wont to

relate to her all the current events, and it was through the child's

keen, young optics that Mrs. Hudgers saw life. An eloquent and vivid

description of St. Mark's service was eagerly related.

"I allers thought I'd like to see them Episcopals," she remarked

regretfully. "Ef church air wa'n't so bad fer my rheumatiz, I'd pay

car-fare jest to see it onct. I was brung up Methodist though."

This desire suggested to Amarilly's fertile little brain a way to make a

contribution to John Meredith's pet missionary scheme, whose merits he

had so ardently expounded from the pulpit.

"I'll hev a sacrud concert like the one he said they was goin' to hev to

the church," she decided.

She was fully aware of the sensation created by the Thursday clothes-line

of surplices, and she resolved to profit thereby while the garments

were still a novelty. Consequently the neighborhood was notified that a

sacred concert by a "surplused choir" composed of members of the Jenkins

household, assisted by a few of their schoolmates, would be given a week

from Wednesday night. This particular night was chosen for the reason

that the church washing was put to soak late on a Wednesday.

There was a short, sharp conflict in Amarilly's conscience before she

convinced herself it would not be wrong to allow the impromptu choir to

don the surplices of St. Mark's.

"They wouldn't spile 'em jest awearin' 'em onct," she argued sharply,

for Amarilly always "sassed back" with spirit to her moral accuser.

"'Tain't as if they wa'n't agoin' into the wash as soon as they take 'em

off. Besides," as a triumphant clincher, "think of the cause!"

Amarilly had heard the Boarder and a young socialist exchanging views,

and she had caught this slogan, which was a tempting phrase and adequate

to whitewash many a doubtful act. It proved effectual in silencing the

conscience which Amarilly slipped back into its case and fastened

securely.