Josephine's only answer was a tug which dislodged Maria's fingers and
hurt her. But Maria came of the stock which believed in trusting the
Lord and keeping the powder dry. She was not yet conquered. The right
was clearly on her side. She and Josephine had planned to meet at the
corner at four o'clock, and it was not quite half-past three, and she
had given Josephine half a pound of chocolates. She did not stop to
reflect a moment. Maria's impulses were quick, and lack of decision
in emergencies was not a failing of hers. She made one dart to the
rear of Josephine. Josephine wore her hair in a braided loop, tied
with a bow of black ribbon. Maria seized upon this loop of brown
braids, and hung. She was enough shorter than Josephine to render it
effectual. Josephine's head was bent backward and she was helpless,
unless she let go of the baby-carriage. Josephine, however, had good
lungs, and she screamed, as she was pulled backward, still holding to
the little carriage, which was also somewhat tilted by the whole
performance.

"Lemme be, you horrid little thing!" she screamed, "or I'll tell your
ma."

"She isn't my mother," said Maria in return. "Let go of my baby."

"She is your ma. Your father married her, and she's your ma, and you
can't help yourself. Lemme go, or I'll tell on you."

"Tell, if you want to," said Maria, firmly, actually swinging with
her whole weight from Josephine's loop of braids. "Let go my baby."

Josephine screamed again, with her head bent backward, and the
baby-carriage tilted perilously. Then a woman, who had been watching