"Thar's two things here yet," reported Mrs. Jenkins. "Gus come hum too
late last night to take the preacher's surplus and Miss King's lace
waist. You was so tired I didn't tell you, 'cause I know'd you'd be sot
on goin' with them yourself. They're all did up."

"Well, they'll hev to stay right here with us and the fever," said
Amarilly philosophically.

At heart she secretly rejoiced in the retaining of these two garments,
for they seemed to keep her in touch with their owners whom she would be
unable to see until Iry had recovered.

"I don't see what we are going to do, Amarilly," said her mother
despairingly. "Thar'll be nuthin' comin' in and so many extrys."

"No extrys," cheerfully assured the little comforter. "The city
doctor'll take keer of Iry and bring the medicines. We hev laid by some
sence we got the church wash. It'll tide us over till Iry gits well. We
all need a vacation from work, anyhow."

At the beginning of the next week a ten-dollar bill came from Colette,
"to buy jellies and things for Iry," she wrote. A similar contribution
came from John Meredith.

"We air on Easy Street onct more!" cried Amarilly joyfully.

"I hate to take the money from them," sighed Mrs. Jenkins.

"We'll make it up to them when we kin work agin," consoled Amarilly.
"Better to take from friends than from the city. It won't be fer long.