he cause.

"Oh, Lottie's spunky," answered Ethel carelessly, turning back to join
her companions.

"I'm not! You horrid thing, take that!" Out shot one little hand and the
sharp nails dug vicious, cruel scratches down Ethel's cheek.

"You cat!" cried Peace, horrified at the uncalled-for act, and springing
at the white-aproned figure, she caught her by the shoulder, and shook
her till her teeth rattled. Lottie doubled up like a jack-knife and
buried her sharp teeth in the brown hand gripping her so tightly, biting
so viciously that the blood ran and Peace screamed with pain.

Frightened at the sight of the two girls clinched in battle, the other
children danced excitedly about the yard and shrieked wildly. Tony even
started for the matron, but remembered the Lady Board meeting, and flew
instead for the new cook, busy preparing refreshments for the
distinguished visitors, gasping out as he stumbled into the kitchen,
"Oh, come quick! There's a strange girl in the yard and Lottie's chewing
her into shoe-strings!"

Bridget was new at the business, or she would never have meddled in the
affair. Glancing out of the window, she saw what looked to be a small
riot in the corner, and knowing that the matron and her assistants were
engaged with their visitors in the other wing of the building, she
dropped her plate of sandwiches, and rushed to the rescue as fast as her
avoirdupois would permit. She was familiar enough with the rules of the
institution to know that the Home children did not wear white aprons and
pink hair-ribbons except on special occasions, and also that fighting
was severely punished. It never occurred to her that the matron was the
proper authority to whom to report trouble. She made a lunge for the two
struggling children, jerked them apart, shook them impartially, and
blazed out in rich, Irish brogue, "Ye dirty spalpeens, phwat d'ye mane
by sich disorderly conduct? It'll be a long toime afore ye'll iver git
inside this fince again to play, ye black-eyed miss! Make tracks now or
I'll call the p'lice! You, ye little beggar, march straight inter the
house! The matron'll settle with ye good and plenty whin she gits
toime!"

Both girls tried to explain, and the frightened, excited Home children
shouted in vain. Irish Bridget seized the resisting Lottie, thrust her
forcibly out through the gate, and hustled poor Peace into the dark
entry, in spite of her protests and frantic kicking. "I'm not Lottie,
I'm not L