Ethel was usually very fond of babies, but now she could think of nothing but her disappointment, and only an impatient jerk of her shoulders showed that she heard. At this moment the door opened, and the conductor appeared, followed by the few passengers from the other car, among them the shivering family with the baby. The mother looked pale and tired, and sank into the first seat. Mrs. Jervis rose, obliging Ethel to sit up, and went toward the weary woman. "Let me take the baby a while," she said pleasantly; "you look tired out." Tears came into the eyes of the poor mother. "Oh, thank you," she said; "the baby is fretting for her milk; she won't eat anything I can get for her." "Of course she won't," said Mrs. Jervis, as she lifted the baby, who, though poorly dressed, was clean and sweet; "sensible baby! we must try to get milk for her!" She turned to the conductor. "Isn't there a farmhouse somewhere about here where some benevolent gentleman might get milk for a suffering baby?" and she looked with a smile at the passenger who had been giving the unwelcome news. "No," said the conductor, "I think not any near enough to be reached in this storm; but I have an idea that there's a case of condensed milk in the baggage-car; I'll see," and he hurried out. "That's a providential baggage-car," said Mrs. Jervis. "How much we might have suffered but for its fortunate stores!" "Yes," replied her neighbor gravely; "a fast of a week wouldn't be very comfortable." "And jack rabbits are tiptop!" burst in Harry Jervis. His mother smiled. "I'm glad you like them, Harry; I should like them better bounding away over the prairies on their own long legs than served up half cooked, on a newspaper for plates,--to be eaten with fingers, too," she added. "Fingers were made before forks!" said Harry triumphantly, repeating an old saying which had been quoted quite often in that car of late. "Your fingers were not, Harry!" said Mrs. Jervis, laughing. "However, we have cause to be thankful, even for jack rabbits eaten with our fingers." At this moment entered a brakeman with a can of condensed milk. "The conductor sent this to you, ma'am," he said. "But it isn't open!" said Mrs. Jervis in dismay; "and I didn't think to bring a can-opener. If I had only known of this picnic-party, I might have provided myself." "I'll open it," said her neighbor, taking out a pocket knife; "I've opened many a can in my travels on the plains." "Don't take off the top," said Mrs. Jervis. "Make two holes in the cover." He looked up in surprise. She went on: "One to let out the milk, and the other to let in the air so that it can get out." "Well, if that isn't an idea!" said the man, a broad grin spreading over his face. "It takes a woman to think of that contrivance!" "You see," said Mrs. Jervis, "that keeps the milk in the can clean, and it pours out as well as if the whole top was off."