"I could buy it if you'd hold this baby till I put my hand in my pocket." The youth laughed, but, for the sake of "making a trade," set down his basket and took the "infant terrible." There was an instant attack upon his hair, which was so long and straggling as to prove an easy prey to the enemy.
[Illustration: DOTTY IN THE CARS.

Page 44.] "Hurry, you!" said he to Dotty, with juvenile impatience.

"I can't stand any more of this nonsense." Dotty did hurry; but before she received the baby again he had been well shaken, and his temper was aroused; he objected to being punished for such a harmless amusement as uprooting a little hair.

There was one thing certain: if his eyes were small, his lungs were large enough, and perfectly sound.
Startled by his lusty cries, his mamma opened one of her eyes, but immediately closed it again when she saw that Dotty was bending all the powers of her mind to the effort of soothing "the cherub." "I do wish my dear mamma _was_ travelling with us," thought the perplexed little girl.

"She wouldn't 'low me to hold this naughty, naughty baby forever 'n' ever! Because, you know, she never'd go off to the other end of the car and talk pol'tics." The little girl chirruped, cooed, and sang; all in vain.