old woman was at the wheel.

"Stop!" she cried. "Stop! Bring her in here to me! Let me have her!
Give her to me; I have got everything ready! Come, Ellen--come to
grandmother!"

Then there was a mad rush from the opposite direction, and the
child's mother was there, reaching into the buggy with fierce arms
of love and longing. "Give her to me!" she shrieked out. "Give me my
baby, Eva Loud! Oh, Ellen, where have you been?"

Fanny Brewster dragged her child from her sister's arms so forcibly
that she seemed fairly to fly over the wheel. Then she strained her
to her hungry bosom, covering her with kisses, wetting her soft face
and yellow hair with tears.

"My baby, mother's darling, mother's baby!" she gasped out with
great pants of satisfied love; but another pair of lean, wiry old
arms stole around the child's slender body.

"Give her to me!" demanded Mrs. Zelotes Brewster. "She is my son's
child, and I have a right to her! You will kill her, goin' on so
over her. Give her to me! I have everything all ready in my house to
take care of her. Give her to me, Fanny Loud!"

"Keep your hands off her!" cried Fanny. "She's my own baby, and
nobody's goin' to take her away from me, I guess."

"Give her to me this minute!" said Mrs. Zelotes Brewster. "You'll
kill her, goin' on so. You're frightenin' her to death. Give her to