Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/279

 My master is so fond of that minister that keeps the school — I thought my master a wise man, but that man makes him a fool. Saunders, said I, I would rather than a quart of ale He would come into our kitchen, and I would pin a dishclout to his tail. And now I must go, and get Saunders to direct this letter; For I write but a bad scrawl; but my sister Marget, she writes better. Well, but I must run and make the bed, before my master comes from prayers. And see now, it strikes ten, and I hear him coming up stairs; Whereof I could say more to your verses, if I could write written hand: And so I remain, in a civil way, your servant to command,

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. 1723-4.

Janus now prepares, For Bec, a new supply of cares, Sent in a bag to doctor Swift, Who thus displays the New-year's gift. First, this large parcel brings you tidings Of our good dean's eternal chidings; Of