"I seen you and her this arternoon. She's orful purty," said Amarilly reflectively. "She looked kinder delikit, though. What's her name?"
"Lily—Lily Rose. Ain't that a purty name?"
"Beautiful. The lily part jest suits her. She's like a flower—a white flower. But what do you want the surplus fer?"
"You see," began the Boarder, coming by circuitous route to his subject, "gals git notions in their heads sometimes when they air in—"
"Love," promptly supplied the comprehending little girl.
"Yes," he assented with a fiery blush. "And she wants fer me to hev my likeness took so I kin give it to her."
"Thar ain't nothin' foolish about that!" declared Amarilly.
"No; but I never sot fer one yet. I wouldn't mind, but you see she's got it in her head that I am good-looking—"
"Well, you be," corroborated Amarilly decisively.
"And she wants me fer to dress up like a preacher. I told her about Hallie Hudgers lookin' so swell in the surplus, and she wants, as I should dress up in it and set fer my likeness in it."