_Newcastle-street, July --, 1841._
MR. PUNCH,--Little did I think wen i've bin a gaping and starin' at you in
the streats, that i shud ever happli to you for gustice. Isntet a shame
that peeple puts advurtusmints in the papers for a howsmaid for a lark, as
it puts all the poor survents out of plaice into a dredfool situashun.
As i alwuss gets a peep at the paper on the landin' as i takes it up for
breckfus, i was unfoughtunite enuf to see a para--thingem-me-bob--for a
howsmaid, wanted in a nobbleman's fameli. On course, a young woman has a
rite to better hursef if she can; so I makes up my mind at wunce--has i
oney has sicks pouns a ear, and finds my own t and shuggar--i makes up my
mind to arsk for a day out; which, has the cold mutting was jest enuf for
mastur and missus without me, was grarnted me. I soon clears up the
kitshun, and goes up stares to clean mysef. I puts on my silk gronin-napple
gownd, and my lase pillowrin, likewise my himitashun vermin tippit, (give
me by my cussen Harry, who keeps kumpany with me on hot-dinner days), also
my tuskin bonnit, parrersole, and blacbag; and i takes mysef orf to
South-street, but what was my felines, wen, on wringing the belle, a boy
anser'd the daw, with two roes of brarse beeds down his jacket.
"Can i speek a word with the futman?" says i, in my ingaugingist manner.
"i'm futman," says he.
"Then the cook," says i.
"We arn't no cook," says he.
"No cook!" says i, almose putrifide with surprise; "you must be jokin'"--
"Jokin'," says he; "do you no who lives here?"
"Not exacly," says i.
"Lord Milburn," says he.
i thort i shud have dropt on the step, as a glimmerin' of the doo shot
aX my mine.
"Then you don't want no howsmaid?" says i.
"Howsmaid!" says the boy; "go to blazes: (What could he mean by
[Illustration: GOING TO BLAZES?)]
"No; i've toled fifty on ye so this mornin'--it's a oaks."
"Then more shame of Lord Milborn to do it," says i; "he may want a place
hissef some day or other," sayin' of which i bounsed off the doorstep, with
all tho dignity i could command.
Now, what i wants to no is, wether i can't summons his lordship for my day
out. Harry sais, should i ever come in contract with Lord Milborn, i'm to
trete him with the silent kontempt of
Yours truly,
[Illustration: AN INDIGNANT HOUSEMAID.]
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