Article clipped from London Dispatch

As Introduction to the Kitchen.—“ Whose childareyou?’' demanded the housekeeper. “Mother's,” replied the boy. “ I suspected as much,” rejoined the inquisitor, half aside to Mrs. Jennings. ° And I beau’t no ways surprised to hear it, I promise you,” he replied. Mrs. Thompson sighed deeply. “It is dreadful!” said she. Then, after taking a moment to recover herself, she resumed, 44 And where does the unhappy person live ?”“Please, ma’am, who?” said the puzzled hoy. “ The_your mother, child. Shame upon you for forcing me to name her !” Michael gave a little ‘hake of the head, which seemed to the merciful kitchenmaid to say that he did not know what the great ladv meant; but he presently replied, as if dhcreetly determined to mind only what he did understand, “ Mother lives in Hoxley-lane, ma’am.” “ The most deplorable situation in the whole parish, inhabited only by the very lowest!” observed the housekeeper, with another indignant sigh. “ So much the worse for she,” muttered the kitchenmaid ; but not loud enough to he heard by her in whose hands rested the appointment of kitchenmaids as well as cooks. “ And why does such asyou come here?” resumed the housekeeper. “Because the squire ordered t’other man to bring me,” answered Michael,—Michael Armstrong, the Factory Boy, by Mrs.Trollope,
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London Dispatch

London, Middlesex, GB

Sun, Mar 24, 1839

Page 18

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Anonymous

USA 03 Jun 2023

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