ce was half crying and
half laughing; poor Lillie was wholly crying. Gilmore and Flagg were
explaining to each other how gladly they would have thrashed the whole
set.

The thought uppermost in Alice's mind was that she had been a clear, out
and out fool! And that, probably, is the impression of the greater part
of the readers of her story,--or would have been the impression of any
one who only had her point of view.

CHAPTER II.

Perhaps the reader is willing to take another point of view.

As the group stood there, talking over the riot as Mrs. MacNeil called
it,--as John Flagg tried to make Alice laugh by bringing her a
half-piece of frosted pound-cake, and proving to her that it had not
been on the floor,--as she said, her eyes streaming with tears, "I tell
you, John! I am a fool, and I know I am, and nobody but a fool would
have started such a row,"--as all this happened, Patrick Crehore came
back for his little sister's orange which he had wrapped in her
handkerchief and left on one of the book-racks in the room. Patrick was
alone now, and was therefore sheepish enough, and got himself and his
orange out of the room as soon as he well could. But he was sharp enough
to note the whole position, and keen enough to catch Alice's words as
she spoke to Mr. Flagg. Indeed, the general look of disappointment and
chagrin in the room, and the contrast between this filthy ruin and the
pretty elegance of half an hour ago, were distinct enough to be
observed by a much more stupid boy than Patrick Crehore. He went down
stairs and found Bridget waiting, and walked home with the little
toddler, meditating rather more than was his wont on Alice's phrase, "I
tell you, I am a fool." Meditating on it, he hauled Bridget up five
flights of stairs and broke in on the little room where a table spread
with a plentiful supply of tea, baker's bread, butter, cheese, and
cabbage, waited their return. Jerry Crehore, his father, sat smoking,
and his mother was tidying up the room.

"And had ye a good time, me darling? And ye 've brought home your
orange, and a doll too, and mittens too. And what did you have, Pat?"

So Pat explained, almost sulkily, that he had a checker-board, and a set
of checker-men, which he produced; but he put them by as if he hated the
sight of them, and for a minute dropped the subject, while he helped
little Biddy to cabbage. He ate something himself, drank some tea, and
then delivered his rage with much unctio