cried in excited tones:

"I've found a baby! Hi, there, Nunkie, dear--I've found a baby!"

Thereupon came the sound of a chair being pushed back as a man's voice
answered in equal glee:

"Why, Patsy, Patsy! it's the little rogue from upstairs. Here, Bobby;
come to your own old Uncle!"

"He won't. He belongs to me; don't you, Bobby darlin'?"

A babyish voice babbled merrily, but the sounds were all "goos" and
"ahs" without any resemblance to words. Bobby may have imagined he was
talking, but he was not very intelligible.

"See here, Patsy Doyle; you gimme that baby." cried the man, pleadingly.
"I found him myself, and he's mine. I've dragged him here all the way
from his home upstairs, an' don't you dare lay a finger on him. Uncle
John!"

"Fair play, Patsy! Bobby's my chum, and--"

"Well, I'll let you have half of him, Nunkie. Down on your hands and
knees, sir, and be a horse. That's it--Now, Bobby, straddle Uncle John
and drive him by his necktie--here it is. S-t-e-a-d-y, Uncle; and
neigh--neigh like a horse!"

"How does a horse neigh, Patsy?" asked a muffled voice, choking and
chuckling at the same time.