Here the door opened and an unenrolled Cornelia was added to the gathering. Her red and yellow kimona rose and fell with her quick breathing. Defiance shone in her black eyes.
"You got mine baby," declared Rosie Rashnowsky. "Why couldn't you leave her be where I put her, you old Miss Fix-its? You scared me most to death until I heard her yellin'."
With these ungrateful remarks she advanced upon the ministering group and snatched the inverted infant from the colic theorist.
"This is the top of her," she pointed out. "I guess you didn't look very hard."
Before the discredited practitioner had formed a reply the Cornelia in spectacles was ready to remark:
"We think your baby is hungry."
"Sure is she," Rosie concurred; "ain't babies always hungry?"
"And if you will tell us what you feed her on," the lady continued, "we will send out for some of it before you take her home."
Rosie was by this time established in a chair with the now only whimpering baby upon her lap.
"Don't you bother," she genially remonstrated. "I just bought her something."