Often The Upper Story Shelves Over The
Third, So That You Almost Wonder Why The House Does Not Tumble Over.
A friend, whom I had never seen, did me the honor to invite me to
her hospitable mansion in Manchester.
It was indeed a great
privilege to be allowed to make a part of the family circle, and sit
with them by their fireside, and be made to feel at home so far from
one's native land; and this I experienced all the time I was in
England.
I was prepared for the appearance of Manchester. So I was not
astonished at the number of tall chimneys, nor at the quantity of
smoke that issued from them. And I could quite enter into the
feelings of the friend who told me that nothing was more melancholy
than to see a clear atmosphere over the town; the blacker it looked
the more prosperity was indicated, and the more cause for rejoicing.
My kind friend took me to one of the great print factories. My
principal wish for going was to see how the factory people looked,
whether they seemed well and happy. I observed them; they were well
dressed, and were cheerful in their appearance. There were a few
children employed, who looked healthy and happy. There was at this
factory a reading room, nicely warmed and perfectly comfortable,
where the workman, by subscribing a penny or two a week, could
obtain the right to spend his leisure hours and see the periodicals
and newspapers.
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