"Now, Sarah, just you make haste with that kettle, and we will have a
nice cup of tea for dad when he comes in."
"Dad's" real name was David Brown, and Sarah was his only child, just
turned eighteen. The Browns were a happy family, though poor, and they
put their trust in God, and did not worry about the morrow. Sarah had
just been telling her mother of a situation as kitchen maid that she had
been inquiring about, and had almost decided to take, but her father's
permission was still wanting. Mr. Brown was a cab driver, and found it
sometimes very hard work to make both ends meet, especially in the
winter time, when coals were a necessity and dear at best.
This conversation took place on Christmas Day, and Brown had promised to
be home for tea, knowing how disappointed his wife and Sarah would feel
if he stayed out until his usual hour, which was half-past ten. Soon the
kettle was singing away merrily on the hob, and Sarah was toasting some
bread in front of a small bright fire, when a knock was heard, the door
opened, and a man about twenty-four came in. He was evidently not
unexpected, as four places were prepared at the table.
Dick Bream was one of a large family, and very much devoted to Sarah;
they had told each other how they would work hard to earn some money and
set up house together, and Sarah was now longing to tell him about her
future situation. Dick was a footman, and had a very comfortable place
in Belgrave Square--he was getting on well, and his master had promised
to help him to get a place as upper servant in a year or two. He and
Sarah kissed each other heartily under the misletoe, which was over the
door, and Dick shook hands with Mrs. Brown, and they were beginning to
talk about Sarah's future when Mr. Brown's cheerful voice was heard
calling her to hold the horse, while he got down from the box. Up sprang
Sarah, out she ran and stood at Bobby's head, patting and soothing him
in his impatience to get to the warm stable and clean hay. Mr. Brown
took the horse and harness to the stable, and Sarah held the lantern
whilst he wiped down Bobby.
"Well, father," said Sarah, "tea is ready, your slippers are by the
fire, and I have some news to tell you; but you shan't hear it till you
have drunk a hot cup of tea and eaten one of my best baked cakes."
The father patted her cheek, kissed his wife, and, drawing off his coat,
sat down at the head of the table.