Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Those Brewster Children
The range was heated to redness, and sev eral saucepans huddled together over the hot test place were bubbling furiously. Celia, the maid, was setting the table in the dining room, with slow, meditative motions like those of an ox. She did not appear at all disturbed at sight of her mistress hurriedly dashing water into one of the utensils, from which arose an evil-smelling steam.
Oh, Celia! How many times must I tell you to cook the vegetables in plenty of water? Demanded Mrs. Brewster, in despairing tones.
And look! Your fire is almost up to the grid dles. Have you shaken it down this after noon?
The girl shook her big head with its untidy braids of straw-coloured hair. Naw! She observed explosively, after a pause filled with the noise of descending ashes.
You should say 'no, Mrs. Brewster, ' or 'no, her mistress said, with an obvious effort after self-control. Try not to forget again, Celia. Now you may go up to your room and make yourself tidy before you finish dinner.
The girl obeyed with the heavy, lurching steps of one crossing a ploughed field. Eliza b'eth, hurriedly opening doors and windows to the frosty sunset caught sight of her three children still busy about their snow image.
Carroll, dear! She called, didn't you hear mother when she told you to come in?
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