Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

"I'm agoin' to give Hallie a good funeral," Mrs. Hudgers confided to

Amarilly. "I'm agoin' to hev hacks and flowers and singin' If yer St.

Mark's man was to hum now, I should like to have him fishyate."

"Who will you git?" asked Amarilly interestedly.

"I'll hev the preacher from the meetin'-house on the hill, Brother

Longgrass."

"I wonder," speculated Amarilly, "if he'd like to wear the surplus?"

Foremost as the plumes of Henry of Navarre in battle were the surplice

and the renting thereof in Amarilly's vision.

"I don't expect he could do that," replied Mrs. Hudgers doubtfully. "His

church most likely wouldn't stand fer it. Brother Longgrass is real kind

if he ain't my sort. He's agoin' to let the boys run the maylodeun down

here the night afore the funyral."

"Who's agoin' to sing?"

"I dunno yit. I left it to the preacher. He said he'd git me a picked

choir, whatever that may be."

"My! But you'll hev a fine funeral!" exclaimed Amarilly admiringly.

"I allers did say that when Hallie got merried, or died, things should

be done right. Thar's jest one thing I can't hev."

"What's that, Mrs. Hudgers?"

"Why, you see, Amarilly, Hallie's clo'es air sort of shabby-like, and

when we git him in that shiny new caskit, they air agoin' to show up

orful seedy. But I can't afford ter buy him a new suit jest for this

onct."

"Couldn't you rent a suit?" asked Amarilly, her ruling passion for

business still dominating.

"No; I jest can't, Amarilly. It's costin' me too much now."

"I know it is," sympathized Amarilly, concentrating her mind on the

puzzling solution of Hallie's habiliment.

"Mrs. Hudgers," she exclaimed suddenly, "why can't you put the surplus

on Hallie? You kin slip it on over his suit, and when the funeral's

over, and they hev all looked at the corpse, you kin take it offen him."

"Oh, that would be sweet!" cried Mrs. Hudgers, brightening perceptibly.

"Hallie would look beautiful in it, and 'twould be diffrent from any one

else's funeral. How you allers think of things, Amarilly! But I ain't

got no dollar to pay you fer it."

"If you did hev one," replied Amarilly Indignantly, "I shouldn't let you

pay fer it. We're neighbors, and what I kin do fer Hallie I want ter

do."

"Well, Amarilly, it's certainly fine fer you to feel that way. You don't

think," she added with sudden apprehension, "that they'd think the

surplus was Hallie's nightshirt, do you?"