no. i.—to mister benjamin carnaby, 7, brigantine row, deptford, london. (with spead.)
deer bruther,
i am trully sory to arrow up yure relativ felings but it do seam to me as my deer bob is beeing shamfully iltretid at his skull. inclosd is the pore fellars too letters the last jist cum to hand, and were sich a blo to fathurly felings i have nevver bean my hone man evver sins. id appeer he hav wel ni bin starvd. prays god his pore muther is coald under the hearth, it wud spile the rest of hir hashes if so be she cood read his tail of pewtered meet. if she ad a delite hear abuv it were childrins legs strate and there bellis well fild partickly groin up yuths—and she wood av run creazy to think of the constitushun bein rewind for evver and ever with turnd tabil bear. and you too i no you will blead at art for the mizriz of yure pore nevy but i hop you will old up under it tho it be as it war a thunder
[pg 397]
boult on us boath. in respex of larning it seam his mind hav bin reglectid to be nurrisht up as well as is bodely fram even to cumpare the too leters my bob rite a site better gud inglish nor his master witch to my mind he mite hav dun grates at home in loo of paing sich mints of munny for skulling but wat disapints me most next to his fammishin is the greek and lattin as i did sit my art upon to hav won clasicle skollard branch in the famely. them too hushers desarves a wiping at a carts tale, and so do that mawks with hir luv gammux in juvenal presents much gud it wur my sendin him abuv a duzzin mile off from lunnun to uncorrup his morrils. has for the dockter i cud find in my hart to strip his dipplomer over his years with my hone ands wen i think that in loo of techin the yung idear how to shut he has mayhap stunted the pore boys groth for his lif to cum. but overpourin felings forebids my drawin moor picters of bobs suffrin. i have had no stummuck ever sins the post
[pg 398]
nockt me down with the nus. but it wood not be becummin a parrent and a farthe to be revealing in lucksriz wile the sun of his hone lines ware revealing in fliblod beaf and vargis. to be sure these is felings that you as an unmarred man cant enter into at full lenth, but as hone unkil by fleash and blud you will enter into the hard boord partickly as yure hone coarse of lif as had its scrimps and cum shorts and tort you what it is to be pincht in youre fud. wi i mite as well hav sent him to a short communing yorksheer skull at twenty pound per anum a yeer and had his close chuckt in to his bed and bord. in the interium i hav forwardid him a cumfitting letter with a won pun not to treet himself to sumat moor stayin and suportin nor stal pastery. but i do hop and beg deer bruther to hav your sentimints on the cas as you be moor caperble to advize me than i am, and not to delay riting if so be yure officious dutis purvent pearsonally quitin the yard. i wud have tuck a place on the rumfud stag and sit off at wons but gowt forebid my cotching and so do missis rumsey for as yusial wen my felings is frustratid all my nervs is flone to my fut. pore missis rumsey simperthizes at evvery thing and is quit as upsit in her sperrits for as she say altho but houskeper her bowls yarns to bob all as one with an hone hoffspring. she do say as bobs a littel piggin brested and shoes simtoms of pullmary afection she trembil for fear pourness of blud sows seeds of sumthink fatle in his lunges. indeed her mutherly hangsity offen remind a lass of her as lies volting in all allows barking. with witch i conclud with all brutherly luv, hopping to here by return of poast. i no you seldim or nevver anser peples favers partickly mine but i do hop as this hear is a matter of vittle importins you will devot a few minuets to
yure luving but aflicted bruther
john carnaby.
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p. s. if so be you thort best to poshay off xpressivly to bob, watever is disburstid out of pockit my puss shall kiver the hole. praps you may lick him to be tuck away at wons for it wud be a thowsend pitis to brake his sperrit and he is rayther tender artid as you may gudge by wat he rite of his pore late muther. well, hevin nose i war never in faver of turning cots but if so be they wood reform the skulls i wood jine the wigs.
enclosure, no. i.—to john carnaby, esquire. number 49, polyanthus place, mile end road, london.
honoured parent,
as the sight of his native terra firma to the hardy mariner on the pathless waste of the vast expanse of ocean, so are the filial affections of a son and school boy to inform we break up on friday the 21st instant; when i hope to find yourself, comprising all my relations and friends, enjoying that greatest of blessings, a state of salubrity.
when we add to this the pleasing sensation of scholastic duties fulfilled with attention, industry, and diligence, accompanied by a preponderating progress in all juvenile studies, objects, and pursuits, a sanguine expectation is indulged that the parental sentiments of satisfaction will be spontaneously conferred on the present half year, participating however with a due regard to health, comfort, and morals. indeed it would be precocious to anticipate otherwise by the unrelenting vigilance and inculcation evinced by our guide, philosopher, and friend, doctor darby and assistants, as likewise the more than maternal solicitude betrayed by mrs. doctor d. who begs leave to cordially unite with the same in respectful compliments.
i am happy to say the improvement i have made in the latin and greek tongues, including french and italian, has been very great and such as i trust to deserve and obtain his parent’s, master’s, friend’s and wellwisher’s warmest approbation and
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esteem. and this reflection will be enhanced to reflect, that by being impressed upon by pious, virtuous, and loyal principles, every juvenile member of the establishment is a firm and uncompromising supporter and defender of king, church and state.
i will now conclude by giving my best love to all relations and friends, and accept the same from
honoured parent,
your dutiful and affectionate son,
robert carnaby.
