Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

"Couldn't you git off Saturday arternoons?" he asked.

"Yes, I could do that," assured Amarilly eagerly. "Is thar a Saturday

arternoon school?"

"Yes," replied the man. "There is a church guild, St. Mark's, that has a

school. My little gal goes. She larns sewin' and singin' and waitin' on

table and such like. You'd better go with her to-morrow."

"I kin sew now," said Amarilly, repeating this conversation to the

family circle that night, "and I'd like to sing, fer of course I'll hev

to when I'm on the stage, but I git enough waitin' on table to hum. I'd

ruther larn to read better fust of all."

"I ain't much of a scholar," observed the Boarder modestly, "but I can

learn you readin', writin', and spellin' some, and figgerin' too. I'll

give you lessons evenin's."

"We'll begin now!" cried the little tyro enthusiastically.

The Boarder approved this promptness, and that night gave the first

lesson from Flamingus's schoolbooks.

The next morning Amarilly proudly informed the ticket-seller that her

education had begun. She was consequently rather lukewarm in regard to

the Guild school proposition, but the little daughter of the stagehand

pictured the school and her teacher in most enticing fashion.

"You kin be in our class," she coaxed persuasively. "We hev a new

teacher. She's a real swell and wears a diamon' ring and her hair is

more yaller than the wig what the play lady wears. She bed us up to her

house to a supper last week, and thar was velvit carpits and ice-cream

and lots of cake but no pie."

Amarilly's curiosity was aroused, and her red, roughened hand firmly

grasped the confiding one of her little companion as she permitted

herself to be led to the Guild school.