their shawls in the
best bedroom, which was that convenient shelf that was turned into
anything on short notice. The baby-dolls had to go early to bed under
the table, and you can imagine how much pleasanter it is to say,
"Bed-time, children!" than to have it said to you. Mrs. Green was a
perfect little Mrs. Herod in her treatment of her children. Indeed,
their yells under punishment were heart-rending; but when she was only
dear Katy she was tender as one of those cooing doves.

So we ate up the ice-cream, and turned the tea-pot upside down to
squeeze out the last drop of chocolate-tea. Mrs. Green was just doing
this very thing when the most dreadful event happened.
Crash!--bang!--clatter!--the whole world had turned upside down. Out
went the lights, and everything fell together in a dismal heap; but
whether up or down nobody could tell. There was a splash of cold, cold
water in my face as the wash-bowl and pitcher fell and crashed beside
me. Katy lay with her small nose buried in the butter-plate. _The house
had tumbled over!!_

For a few seconds not a sound was heard, but then there was a
half-stifled burst of laughter, which quickly died away as some thickly
shod feet scampered down the alley. Yes, the beautiful house was tipped
over, and the tea-party put out, as an extinguisher is slipped over a
candle, or a hat clapped upon a butterfly. Inside, there was a confused
heap, with legs uppermost,--table-legs, chair-legs, little legs clad in
white stockings, and, mixed hopelessly up with these, the dolls, the
dishes, the candles.

[Illustration: THE TEA-PARTY.]

This heap, however, was silent only for a moment. Then a feeble cry
struggled up through it,--a cry which, reaching the upper air, grew
loud, doubled itself, became two cries, and rushed out through a window,
which, having lost its way, was where the roof ought to be. Then growing
fast and shrill, the cry ran toward the house, waking up the Brown baby,
who at once joined in. The rooster waked suddenly, and feeling that
something had happened, thought it could do no harm to crow, and that
agitated his household to the last hen. Then to the cackling and
crowing, Beppo added a bark of duty, and nearly turned inside out,
tugging at his chain, and howling between times. The canary began his
scales, and the scream grew and grew and rushed into the house through
every door and window. Uncle John was reading the paper, but, hearing
the fearful uproar, he dashed i