Fannie Georgia Stroup, The House of Death (1923)
“ They felt that they ought to have a feeling of horror. It was a terrible crime, with seemingly only one explanation, but to both there arose visions of the unexpected satisfying of the craving mother heart of the work-worn farm drudge; of her seeming happiness and joy at the little cuddling head in the hollow of her arm and the soft lips on the breast, as the little form was held tightly to its mother's bosom. "I don't care what the coroner's jury said, I don't believe Mamie could 'a' done it. ”
