"Perhaps there were other things to laugh about."
"I don't mind the laughing now. But they must have had lovely gardens full of tulips and roses. There doesn't seem any room about for such things. And lanes, you know. Did the new people drive the Dutch away?"
"The English came afterward. You will read all about it in history. And then came the war——"
"That grandmother knows about? Margaret, I think New York is a great, strange, queer place. There are a good many queernesses, aren't there?"
Margaret assented with a smile.
"Oh, there's father in the wagon!" The little girl was all a tremor of gladness. He caught her eyes and beckoned, and she ran down. But she couldn't manage the night-latch, and so Margaret had to follow her.
"Bundle up my little girl," he said. "I've got to drive up to Harlem and I'll take her along."
Hanny almost danced for joy. Margaret found her red merino coat. The collar was trimmed with swan's down, and her red silk hood had an edge of the same. True, some ultra-fashionables had come out in spring attire, but it was rather cool so early in the season. Hanny looked very pretty in her winter hood. And as they drove down the street the same girls were standing on a stoop; one was evidently going away from her friend. The one who laughed lived there then. But neither of them would have guessed it was the "queer" girl, and they almost envied her.
"I've never been down to this corner," said Hanny. "And the streets run together."
"Yes, First Street ends and Houston goes on over to the East River."