Dr. Henry Harington

Richard Graves, "To Dr. H—n, of Bath, in the name of his three Sons at School" 1766; Euphrosyne: or, Amusements on the Road of Life (1780) 2:139-40.

Dear Papa, we receiv'd your facetious epistle,
Which runs into rhyme as clean as a whistle;
We also receiv'd your right bountiful gift,
By our little pad-nag and *Jonathan Swift!
We gallop'd poor Taff up and down in the garden:
But as for our money — we shan't save a fardin:
For things are so dear, and our cakes are so small,
Let us do what we can, we shall soon spend it all.
Mrs. B— made some pies, and quite fill'd her oven;
But gave me the less for being a sloven.
She says, I'm good-natur'd; but thumps my round back,
To make me walk upright — She's fond of our Jack—
As for Harry, I believe, she thinks him no fool:
Mr. B— says he learns the best in the school.

As for learning, indeed we drive all before us;
Read Virgil and Horace, and Martial and Florus.
The two first are fine — but perhaps I am partial,
For at present, methinks, I am fonder of Martial.

We should not have shewn our master the letter;
But Mrs. B— saw it, and said we had better:
So she carried it to him; and very soon after
We thought he'd have burst his buttons with laughter.
He was very much pleas'd with every part;
But your joke on th' election, he says, is quite smart;
And with some alteration, he thinks, very soon
Will make a good figure in Fred'rick's **Festoon.

I am glad my dear Sister's set right in the head—
Give our love to Mama — But the bell rings to bed—
From your dutiful sons — Jack, Harry, and Ned.

* The servant's name.
** A collection of Epigrams [by Graves] printed for him.