Benjamin Franklin Papers - From Georgiana Shipley (unpublished)

You can not imagine the pleasure we received from hearing Mr. Franklin was in England, we waited his coming to Chilbolton with the most anxious expectation not as a mere stranger whom we were desirous of seeing, but as a person for whom we already entertained a particular regard. He was so good as to give us his company for two days—he appears an exceeding amiable sensible young man and the terms of admiration, respect and love with which he mentioned his honored Grandfather very much endeared him to the whole family. He could not have taken a more certain method of gaining our hearts.

In return for the history of the Levee which you sent me, and which made us all laugh, I send you a real anecdote of our royal Sovereign. I commenced Politician because I loved and esteemed you and was interested in the cause you so gloriously supported, but since America is free, I give up Politics. I am tired of bad men and bad ministers—Those who profess patriotism out of Place, I often see the warmest advocates for power when in Place—and as I can look up to no set of men with confidence, I am content to take them as they are, and not trouble myself about public measures.

I suppose you will have red our good friend Dr. Prices new pamphlet. He writes with an honesty of heart and an enthousiasm in the cause of Goodness, I can not but admire, yet I doubt he is mistaken in the flattering opinions he has formed of the Americans, instead of their Empire tending to promote an universal peace. I apprehend from the daily accounts we receive that they are giving way to dissensions among themselves.

You can not imagine how greatly we regret our dear Anna-maria, her loss is ever present to my mind, she was the kindest sister and the best friend I ever possessed, nor is she happy enough in India to console me for her absence, all her letters express the most earnest wishes of returning to England and give no very favorable idea of her present situation.

My father is as you knew him, ever cheerful and in good spirits, the same upright disinterested man in public affairs and making the happiness of his family at home—Your Grandson will tell you, that we still talk of an American voyage, but as he does not flatter us with a hope of seeing you in England, we are very desirous of visiting you at Passy, before we visit you at Philadelphia—we teaze my father on the subject continually—he has not yet said No, which we think promises well. I know not an event which would make the whole family equally happy.

I intend, my dear and ever respected friend, to plague you very often with my letters, the writing them will be a very great pleasure to me, and I shall have no scruple of conscience, since your Grandson tells me, that you have a practise of laying aside all dull letters, till you are at leisure to read them. Throw mine into the same parcel, and then if by chance they should ever contain anything to amuse it will be quelque chose de gagner if they do not, at least, express the warmest regard and esteem for my dear Doctor Franklin, I shall disown them; they will ill describe the sentiments of my heart

Reliev’d a while from State-affairs,

Absorb’d in more domestic Cares,

As royal George, one Ev’ning fair,

Was strolling out to take the Air,

By Chance he met the Dairy-Maid,

Returning from her daily Trade;

He ask’d her how it came to pass,

That milk was scarce with such good Grass;

He thought six Cows might well supply

Enough for all the Family,

But, as it lessen’d ev’ry Day,

Was certain there must be foul Play:

Thus much our gracious Sov’reign said,

When thus replied the Dairy-Maid—

“An’t please your Majesty, ’tis true,

The Cows we have would clearly do

With Cream in Plenty to supply

Your royal self and Family;

But ev’ry Day, ’tis my Belief,

Before I milk, some wicked Thief

Steals to the Cows, and draws them dry;

Who ’tis I cannot tell, not I.”

She spoke—and his suspicions fell

On the Cows’ Guard, the Centinel.

That none, unknown to him, could gain

Admission to the Field, was plain:

Away he posts—no Loss of Time—

And tax’d the Soldier with the Crime;

He, in Defence, protests and vows,

He never meddled with the Cows,

But he indeed had heard, a Duck

Has a strange Pow’r from Beasts to suck;

And as he ev’ry Day had seen

Twenty or thirty on the Green,

He thought it possible, that they

Might drain the Cows, but could not say.

This satisfied the royal Ear;

It must be they, the Case was clear:

But what to do, on this occasion,

Appear’d the next Consideration.

Note, that in weighty Points, ’tis fit,

The King should ask Advice of Pitt.

Accordingly for Pitt he sends,

Pitt, at the royal Call, attends.

The whole Transaction is related,

Opinions given, Projects stated.

Now, as in deep Concerns, tis fit,

His Majesty consult with Pitt,

’Tis no less just that he again

Should ask Advice of Pretty man:

A moment’s Thought the Boy desires,

And to his Counsellor retires,

Relates the Story, begs to know,

What his good Friend would have him do.

The Doctor strok’d his Lanthern Paw,

Said there was something in’t he saw;

Philosphers confirm’d it true,

That Ducks their Food by Suction drew;

That when by some deep Drain he stood,

He often saw them suck the mud:

And if he, from Effects to Causes,

Might Reason, as the College-Law is,

He could no Principle discover,

But what suck’d one Thing, suck’d another.

The Premier re-attends the King,

And brings his Verdict, guilty, in.

Death was the Punishment decreed,

And ev’ry Duck is doom’d to bleed;

The Executioner appears,

And spares nor size, nor sex, nor years.

Drakes, Ducks, and Ducklings strew the Ground,

With mangled necks, and many a Wound.

Then let each loyal Subject sing,

God save our wise, and gracious King,

And may his Cows supply him well,

With that, for which the Poultry fell—