[A provincial schoolmaster wrote to the _Daily Mail_ to say that he had canvassed his employees on the subject of the Insurance Bill and found that out of forty-two domestics only one -- 'Sarah Owen, sewing-maid' -- was in favour of the Servant Tax.]
Come, children, gather round and hark To my entrancing tale! For though you've heard of Joan of Arc, Of brave Grace Darling in her barque, Of Florence Nightingale, Not one of these such nerve displayed As Sarah Owen, sewing-maid!
Her master ranged his forty-two Domestics in a row. As from his breast the Bill he drew, 'Shall this be borne,' he asked, 'by you? ' Though forty-one said 'No! ' '_My_ threepence will be gladly paid! ' Said Sarah Owen, sewing-maid.
In vain his head the butler shook, The gard'ner's grins grew broad, The housemaids wore a scornful look, 'What imperence! ' exclaimed the cook, The 'handy man' guffawed. Serene, intrepid, unafraid, Stood Sarah Owen, sewing-maid!
And whether she was right or wrong, She showed a dauntless will, A firm resolve, a purpose strong, Which move me like a battle-song And make my bosom thrill! The fame and name shall never fade Of Sarah Owen, sewing-maid!
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