“They ran off like foxes before I could say another word, then they rushed back. ‘We don’t know that gen’l’man.’
“Here was a dilemma, but a newsboy, with eyes like gimlets, got me out of it. ‘See here,’ he said, ‘I can’t wiggle in ’count of business, but I’ll give signals. You, here, Biddy Malone, when you see me hop on one leg, and kick a stone, you’ll know the Mayor’s coming, see?’
“The girls nodded and ran off, and he ran after them.
“I mustn’t forget to say I told them to go ask their mothers, but, bless you, the street is so narrow that the women all knew what I was doing, and approved, I could tell by their grins.
“‘Now I want a boy for the Mayor’s house,’ I said.
“A shock-headed urchin volunteered, and I detailed him to sit on the Mayor’s steps till that gentleman betook himself home for luncheon, and then to rise and say, ‘Please, Mr. Mayor, give the children of the East End a park to play in.’
“Well, I sent out about ten couples and six singles. They were to station themselves at intervals along the unhappy man’s route, and by this time the little monkeys had all got so much in the spirit of it, that I had hard work to keep the whole crowd from going.”
Margaretta leaned back in her chair and laughed quietly. “Well, if you’re not developing.”
“Put any creature in a tight place,” said Berty, indignantly, “and see how it will squirm.”