Something did come the next day in the shape of a donation of five dollars from Mr. Vedder, who had heard of the prolonged quarantine. Amarilly wept from gratitude and gladness. "The perfesshun allers stand by each other," she murmured proudly. This last act of charity kept the Jenkins's pot boiling until the premises were officially and thoroughly fumigated. Again famine threatened. The switch remained open to the Boarder, and he was once more on duty, but he had as yet drawn no wages, one morning there was nothing for breakfast. "I'll pawn my ticker at noon," promised the Boarder, "and bring home something for dinner." "There is lots of folks as goes without breakfast allers, from choice," informed Amarilly. "Miss Vail, the teacher at the Guild, says it's hygeniack." "It won't hurt us and the boys," said Mrs. Jenkins, "but Iry and Co is too young to go hungry even if it be hygeniack." "They ain't agoin' hungry," declared Amarilly. "I'll pervide fer them." With a small pitcher under her cape she started bravely forth on a foraging expedition. After walking a few blocks she came to a white house whose woodhouse joined the alley. Hiding behind a barrel she watched and waited until a woman opened the back door and set a soup plate of milk on the lowest step. "Come a kits! Come a kits!" she called shrilly, and then went back into the house. The "kits" came on the run; so did Amarilly. She arrived first, and hastily emptied the contents of the soup plate into her pitcher. Then she fled, leaving two dismayed maltese kittens disconsolately lapping an empty dish. "Here's milk for Iry," she announced, handing the pitcher to her mother. "Now I'll go and get some breakfast for Co." She returned presently with a sugared doughnut. "Where did you borry the milk and nut-cake?" asked her mother wonderingly. "I didn't borry them," replied Amarilly stoically. "I stole them." "Stole them! Am-a-ril-ly Jenk-ins!" "Twan't exackly stealin'," argued Amarilly cheerfully. "I took the milk from two little cats what git stuffed with milk every morning and night. The doughnut had jest been stuck in a parrot's cage. He hedn't tetched it. My! he swore fierce! I'd ruther steal, anyway, than let Iry and Co go hungry." "What would the preacher say!" demanded her mother solemnly. "He would say it was wrong." "He don't know nothin' about bein' hungry!" replied Amarilly defiantly. "If he was ever as hungry as Iry, I bet he'd steal from a cat."