to inquire. But, by lying in wait, they
soon discovered Delia Sullivan, a decent-looking girl they knew, passing
by, and having made her their confidant, so far that she was sure she
was not fooled, they sent her in to inquire. The girl returned to
announce, to the astonishment of all parties, that the shoes cost six
dollars.

"Hew!" cried Pat, "six dollars for them are! I bought my mother's new
over-shoes for one." But not the least did he 'bate of his
determination, and he and Bill Floyd went in search of Tom Mulligan.

Tom was found as easily as Bill. But it was not so easy to enlist him.
Tom was in a regular corner liquor store with men who were sitting
smoking, drinking, and telling dirty stories. Either of the other boys
would have been whipped at home if he had been known to be seen sitting
in this place, and the punishment would have been well bestowed. But Tom
Mulligan had had nobody thrash him for many a day till John Flagg had
struck out so smartly from the shoulder. Perhaps, had there been some
thrashing as discriminating as Jerry Flaherty's, it had been better for
Tom Mulligan. The boys found him easily enough, but, as I said, had some
difficulty in getting him away. With many assurances, however, that they
had something to tell him, and something to show him, they lured him
from the shadow of the comfortable stove into the night.

Pat Crehore, who had more of the tact of oratory than he knew, then
boldly told Tom Mulligan the story of the Christmas-tree, as it passed
after Tom's ejection. Tom was sour at first, but soon warmed to the
narrative, and even showed indignation at the behavior of boys who had
seemed to carry themselves less obnoxiously than he did. All the boys
agreed, that but for certain others who had never been asked to come,
and ought to be ashamed to be there with them as were, there would have
been no row. They all agreed that on some suitable occasion unknown to
me and to this story they would take vengeance on these Tidds and
Sullivans. When Pat Crehore wound up his statement, by telling how he
saw the ladies crying, and all the pretty room looking like a pig-sty,
Tom Mulligan was as loud as he was in saying that it was all wrong, and
that nobody but blackguards would have joined in it, in particular such
blackguards as the Tidds and Sullivans above alluded to.

Then to Tom's sympathizing ear was confided the project of the gold
shoes, as the slippers were always called, in this hono