Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

There was one little ominous cloud in the serene sky of Mrs. Jenkins's

happiness. She had nothing suitable for the occasion of the organ

recital in the way of wearing apparel.

"I feel as if gloves was due you, Bud," she lamented, "but I kin't

afford 'em. I guess I kin put my hands under my mantilly, though, and

folks won't know."

"She'd orter hev 'em, and she'd orter hev a new hat, too," reflected

Bud, and his song became a requiem. He manfully resolved to sacrifice

his future to present needs and curtail the laundry fund. After some

meditation he called upon the bishop, and asked if he might have an

advance of half the amount he would receive for his solo.

The bishop readily assented, but sought the reason for the request.

"My mother is comin' to the recital, but she ain't got no fixin's. I'm

goin' to buy her a hat."

"I am glad you think of your mother, my lad, but it would be well to let

some older person select it for you. My housekeeper--"

Bud's refusal was emphatic. He knew the kind of hat his mother wanted,

and he had noted her quickly suppressed look of disappointment at the

sombre hat donated by Mrs. Hudgers on the day of the police-court

attendance.

Upon receiving the five dollars he went directly to the Fashion

Emporium, where the windows were filled with a heterogeneous assortment

of gayly trimmed hats, marked enticingly with former and present prices.

"I want a hat kivered with flowers," he announced.

"Who for?" asked the young saleswoman.

"For my mother."

"How would you like a nice flower toque like this?" displaying a

headgear of modest forget-me-nots.

"That's all faded. Ain't you got any red flowers? If you haven't, I know

a store where they keep 'em."

The girl instantly sacrificed her ideas of what was fitting to the

certainty of a sale, and quickly produced a hat of green foliage from

which rose long-stemmed, nodding red poppies, "a creation marked down to

three-ninety-eight," she informed him.

"That's the kind! I'll take it and a pair of white gloves, too, if

you've got some big ones fer a dollar."

Bud hastened home with his purchases. His mother was quite overcome by

the sight of such finery.

"I never thought to be dressed up again," she exclaimed on the eventful

night, "No one has bought me nuthin' to wear sence your pa died. I feel

like I was some one outen a book."