In New York every one is in such a hurry that unless you are almost under their feet they cannot see you. For this reason, on the day of Aunty’s absence, she had the grief of watching many old friends and customers go past, give a surprised look at her old seat, and hurry on, never observing her, though she sat so near.
A few, who espied Aunty, stopped in their haste to hear her story and condole with her. The children found her out, you may be sure, and gathered about her, telling her how much too bad it was; and how they should like to set the policemen, Mayor and all, out there on a bench in the dust, for one half-hour; but what could children do? So they passed on. Some of the fashionable ladies in the Square stopped to tell Aunty how they pitied her, begged her not to feel unhappy, and passed on. Only Trouble stood still and frowned at her; all the rest passed on.
No, not all; not our little Joanna. She came home with a thoughtful face, and asked, very energetically, “What do you mean to do about Aunty? It is a shame that all these rich, strong, grown-up people on the Square, cannot stand up for the rights of one poor old woman.”
We told her the city was richer than the richest, stronger than the strongest.
“O,” persisted Joanna, “if we, or any of them, wanted a new lamp-post, or a hydrant mended, we should muster strength fast enough. And now, what’s to become of Aunty and her poor children? that is all I ask.”
We smiled at Joey’s enthusiasm, and thought it would soon pass away. When she came home from school that afternoon, with a whole troop of little girls, we thought it had already passed away. As they ran down the area-steps, we wondered what amusement they were planning now. Presently, Joanna came up-stairs, her eyes looking very bright, and said, “Please give me the inkstand.”
We asked, “What now, child?”
“O, do just give me the inkstand!” said she, impatiently. “We are not in any mischief; we are attending to business”; and off she ran.
Before very long she appeared again with a paper, her black eyes burning like stars. “There, mother,—and all of you,—you must sign this letter, as quick as ever you can. I have made a statement of Aunty’s case; all the children have signed their names; and now we are going to every house in the Square, till we have a good long list.”
“And what then?”