A boy tears up his school textbooks in a fit of anger against his education. Engraving W.C. Wrankmore after C. Wrankmore.

The subject as described in the poem by L.E. Landon (loc. cit.) is as follows: "The young destructive. In truth, I do not wonder / To see them scatter’d round; / So many leaves of knowledge— / Some fruit must sure be found. / The Eton Latin Grammar / Has now its verbs declin’d; / And those of Lindley Murray / Are not so far behind. Oh! days of bread and water— / How many I recall, / Past—sent into the corner; / Your face towards the wall. / Oh! boundaries of Europe! / Oh! rivers great and small! / Oh! islands, gulfs, and capitals! / How I abhorr'd ye all! / And then those dreadful tables / Of shillings, pence, and pounds! / Though I own their greater trouble / In after life abounds. / 'Tis strange how memory lingers / About those early hours; / And we talk of happy childhood, / As if such had been ours. / But distance lends enchantment / To all we suffer’d then; / Thank Heaven, that I never / Can be a child again!"