AN ABODE OF BLISS.
We wish we were on visiting terms with the family, the heads of which have put into a Manchester contemporary the subjoined advertisement:—
TO PARENTS AND GUARDIANS.—WANTED, in a family, a respectable YOUNG PERSON, as Seamstress and Upper Nurse, and to make herself useful. It is expected that a comfortable home, and the opportunity of improvement, will be considered equivalent to her services for the first twelve months.—Address, M., 27, at the Printers'.
Were we in the habit of friendly intercourse with these nice people, they would sometimes—often, we should hope—ask us to dinner. And what a dinner it would be! Moreover, if we stopped to sleep, what luxurious accommodation would be provided for us in a house where the comforts of home are considered equivalent to the services of a Seamstress or Upper Nurse! O the turtle! O the venison! O the superior descriptions of French and Rhine wine! O the profundity of bliss in sinking to slumber in an abyss of down! But O the victuals! O the dinner!—in the first place—if dinner can be depended upon in an establishment wherein the cook most likely gets no wages.