Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

"I jest got into my teens."

"Thirteen. And I am ten years older. When is your birthday?"

"It's ben. It was the fust of June."

"Why, Amarilly," jumping up and holding out his hand, "we are twins!

That is my birthday."

"And you are twenty-three."

"Right you are. That is my age at the present moment. Last night I was

far older, and to-morrow, mayhap, I'll be years younger."

"Be you a Christian Science?" she asked doubtfully.

"Lord, no, child! I am an artist. What made you ask that?"

"'Cause they don't believe in age. Miss Jupperskin told me about 'em.

She's workin' up to it. But I must go back to my work."

"So must I, Amarilly. My model will be here in a few moments to don your

surplice. If you want to clean up my breakfast dishes you may do so, and

then tackle the bedroom and the rest of the apartment."

Three hours later, Amarilly went into the studio. The model had gone,

and the artist stood before his easel surveying his sketch with

approval.

"This is going to be a good picture, Amarilly. The model caught my idea.

There is some fore--"

"Mr. Phillips!"

"My name is Derry. I am too young to be 'mistered.'"

There was no response, and with a smile he turned inquiringly toward

her. There was a wan little droop about the corners of her eyes and lips

that brought contrition to his boyish heart.

"Amarilly you are tired! You have worked too steadily. Sit down and rest

awhile."

"'Tain't that! I'm hungry. Kin I het up the coffee and--"

"Good gracious, Amarilly! I forgot you ate at regular, stated intervals.

We will go right out now to a nice little restaurant near by and eat our

luncheon together."

Amarilly flushed.

"Thank you, Mr. Derry. That's orful nice in you, but I'd ruther eat

here. Thar's the toast and coffee to het, and an aig--"

"No! You are going to have a good, square meal and eat it with me. You

see I had to eat my birthday dinner all alone, so we'll celebrate the

first of June now, together. Slip off your apron. By the way, some day I

shall paint a picture of you in that apron scrubbing my 'mopboard.'"

Amarilly shook her head.

"I don't look fit to go nowhars with you, Mr. Derry."

"Vanitas, and the rest of it! Oh, Amarilly, only thirteen, and the

ruling passion of your sex already in full sway!"