Citation
The real adventures of Robinson Crusoe

Material Information

Title:
The real adventures of Robinson Crusoe
Creator:
Burnand, F. C ( Francis Cowley ), 1836-1917
Sambourne, Linley ( Illustrator )
Bradbury, Agnew and Co
Place of Publication:
London
Publisher:
Bradbury, Agnew, & Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
xiii, 214, [10] p., [8] leaves of plates : ill. ; 20 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Wit and humor, Juvenile ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Family -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Sailing -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Shipwrecks -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Survival after airplane accidents, shipwrecks, etc -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Islands -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Diaries -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Treasure troves -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Family stories -- 1893 ( local )
Robinsonades -- 1893 ( rbgenr )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1893 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre:
Family stories ( local )
Robinsonades ( rbgenr )
Publishers' catalogues ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Publisher's catalogue follows text.
Statement of Responsibility:
with fifty-six illustrations by Linley Sambourne.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026612307 ( ALEPH )
ALG3265 ( NOTIS )
77837249 ( OCLC )

Downloads

This item has the following downloads:

UF00082147_00001.pdf

UF00082147_00001.txt

00265.txt

00199.txt

00206.txt

00026.txt

00047.txt

00080.txt

00058.txt

00105.txt

00060.txt

00054.txt

00092.txt

00233.txt

00051.txt

00177.txt

00231.txt

00263.txt

00252.txt

00055.txt

00061.txt

00153.txt

00162.txt

00137.txt

00205.txt

00253.txt

00183.txt

00067.txt

00142.txt

00181.txt

00237.txt

00037.txt

00033.txt

00215.txt

00100.txt

00224.txt

00096.txt

00145.txt

00108.txt

00174.txt

00062.txt

00002.txt

00112.txt

00146.txt

00243.txt

00076.txt

00057.txt

00148.txt

00182.txt

00158.txt

00087.txt

00066.txt

00073.txt

00075.txt

00194.txt

00127.txt

00235.txt

00027.txt

00063.txt

00114.txt

00221.txt

00091.txt

00071.txt

00120.txt

00059.txt

00223.txt

00136.txt

00259.txt

00150.txt

00042.txt

00012.txt

00201.txt

00156.txt

00125.txt

00023.txt

00167.txt

00039.txt

00218.txt

00122.txt

00258.txt

00163.txt

00255.txt

00256.txt

00133.txt

00210.txt

00072.txt

00081.txt

00020.txt

00038.txt

00213.txt

00188.txt

00179.txt

00193.txt

00101.txt

00011.txt

00238.txt

00190.txt

00034.txt

00083.txt

00157.txt

00143.txt

00024.txt

00110.txt

00093.txt

00117.txt

00247.txt

00234.txt

00152.txt

00184.txt

00119.txt

00189.txt

00168.txt

00111.txt

00154.txt

00248.txt

00207.txt

00019.txt

00203.txt

00251.txt

00126.txt

00135.txt

00172.txt

00191.txt

00170.txt

00220.txt

00246.txt

00169.txt

00070.txt

00032.txt

00138.txt

00068.txt

00241.txt

00107.txt

00217.txt

00128.txt

00140.txt

00212.txt

00064.txt

00008.txt

00035.txt

00095.txt

00200.txt

00264.txt

00090.txt

00196.txt

00016.txt

00222.txt

00116.txt

00118.txt

00005.txt

00103.txt

00208.txt

00166.txt

00197.txt

00017.txt

00139.txt

00178.txt

00097.txt

UF00082147_00001_pdf.txt

00050.txt

00121.txt

00085.txt

00195.txt

00018.txt

00227.txt

00098.txt

00209.txt

00113.txt

00052.txt

00144.txt

00084.txt

00069.txt

00245.txt

00134.txt

00239.txt

00088.txt

00187.txt

00240.txt

00029.txt

00257.txt

00175.txt

00226.txt

00074.txt

00254.txt

00249.txt

00132.txt

00077.txt

00219.txt

00236.txt

00053.txt

00164.txt

00198.txt

00229.txt

00104.txt

00185.txt

00115.txt

00078.txt

00149.txt

00141.txt

00131.txt

00021.txt

00028.txt

00216.txt

00031.txt

00230.txt

00046.txt

00147.txt

00044.txt

00013.txt

00228.txt

00001.txt

00225.txt

00099.txt

00102.txt

00040.txt

00129.txt

00094.txt

00159.txt

00086.txt

00242.txt

00232.txt

00130.txt

00049.txt

00079.txt

00048.txt

00165.txt

00211.txt

00123.txt

00065.txt

00261.txt

00106.txt

00214.txt

00015.txt

00056.txt

00192.txt

00045.txt

00161.txt

00171.txt

00176.txt

00173.txt

00202.txt

00030.txt

00244.txt

00089.txt

00082.txt

00155.txt

00036.txt

00124.txt

00260.txt

00043.txt

00025.txt

00003.txt


Full Text
ic padig
VT DLDP Th
ee pyaee









Mh la-e Pt. The



THE REAL ADVENTURES

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOR,



x

neal

Mt

it
y

ye



Horrible Tails.



Che Real Adventures

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

By FE. €. BURNAND,

AUTHOR OF “‘ THE NEW HISTORY OF SANDFORD AKD MERTON,”
‘HAPPY THOUGHTS,” ETC., ETC.



With Fifty-six Illustrations by

LINLEY SAMBOURNE.

LONDON: BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp,
8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.
1893.



LONDON:
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS,
WHITEFRIARS.



TO ALL FOR WHOM
TRUTH
HAS Gees GREATER THAN
FICTION

THIS RECORD OF A SHORT BUT NOT UNEVENTFUL CAREER

IS

Respectfully Dedicated

BY THEIR OBEDIENT SERVANT,

THE REAL ROBINSON.



CONTENTS.

—_e—_

INTRODUCTION.

PAGE
SETTING FORTH THE “WHY” AND THE “WHEREFORE,”

ALSO THE “HOW” AND THE “WHEN,” WHICH IT IS
HOPED THE READER MAY CONSIDER AS BEING OF

AN EMINENTLY SATISFACTORY CHARACTER .. I
CHAPTER I.
THE ROBINSON RECORD—HIS PARENTS—DE MORTUIS
WIL NIST. BONUM ice oR OS eS
CHAPTER II.
ART Ve MPUESES (Uh ofc egl tia eo ee sce ota LEn SARIN Coa ZO

CHAPTER III.

MAKING A NAME . . : z 3 . 7 ie 23

CHAPTER IV.

DEVELOPING ceaeertees 5 : . ‘ & . 32

CHAPTER V.

A CRISIS FOR CRUSOE . f : 5 : : eshte 36



vill Co ntents,



CHAPTER VI.

A NEW DEPARTURE .

INTERMEZZO .

CHAPTER VII.

ON BOARD .

CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAPTAIN’S WILL

CHAPTER IX.

THE REAL CRUISE O.

CHAPTER X.

SARA GOSSA

CHAPTER XI.

A BUSINESS DINNER .

INTERMEZZO

CHAPTER XII.
ON SAIL OR RETURN?

PAGE

51

59

62

66

81

86

94

98



Contents.

CHAPTER XIII.

I SAIL WITH THE GALE

CHAPTER XIV.

THE TRUTH ABOUT THE ISLAND.

CHAPTER XV.

MORE TRUTH

CHAPTER XVI.
ISLAND DIARY CONTINUED

CHAPTER XVII.

AN AWFUL TIME

CHAPTER XVIII.

LEVEE OF BLACK MAIL

CHAPTER XIX.

“aM I NOT A MAN AND A BROTHER ?”

CHAPTER XxX.

ROBINSON, ATKINS, & CO.

CHAPTER XXI.

CONFIDENCES,.

ix



PAGE
107

135

143

151

156

165

171



x Contents.

CHAPTER XXII.

A HAPPY RETURN

CHAPTER XXIII

TREASURE RE-TROVE

CHAPTER XXIV.

WINDING UP AND STOPPING

PAGE

177

187

201



bisa

OF

ILLUSTRATIONS.

HorRIBLE TAILS

A Blank Page

A very Peculiar Man .
‘*TA-RA-RA BOOM TO-DAY” .
Little Billy .

Adjusting the Balance
Billy in Disgrace .
Making a Name

_ Robinson depressed
Robinson forges a Cheque
Afflicted with Toothache
Close-hauled .

Speaker set free .

‘© Polly ”

A tearful object .

The other Robinson
Awaking! .

New White Gloves .

The Skipper

PAGE

Frontispiece

. Lo face

I2

13



xii List of Lllustrations.



Making the Captain’s Will
A Spanish belle .

Jolly Jack Robinson

A whispered confidence
**Two to one”

Taking in Supplies

Acting on Impulse .

The Collaborator-in-chief
‘* Heaven defend the right ”
** Will Atkins” .

Alone on Board

Scanning the Horizon .
“*T was knocked about”.
‘On a gigantic rock ”

“‘ That repose which only innocence unconscious knows.”
The Fight for the Chicken .

‘© A Cat-anpD-Doc LIFE”

Tent making

**T took aim at the bird ”

‘* Where are we now?”

‘Was I on the track of a Blackfoot Indian ?” .
Arrowing Situation

‘« Spare my life,” I cried

The Neck Step .

‘Oh, blow it!”

**T won small sums” .

‘© T tumbled back on the straw ”

. To tace

PAGE
70
41
80
81
85
86
92
94
96
98

. 105

. 107

. 114
SDS

To face

125

. 126
. 131
- 135
. 141
- 143
- 148

To face

150

- 51

To face

154

- 156

- 165

- 170



Hist of Lllustrattons.



X11
PAGE
By the Sad Sea Wave, or an Indian Notion . Zo face 170
** After Dark!” . Nicaea UAL
Comfortable quarters - 176
‘* Arrayed in the best suit ” . : - 177
‘TI waited and waited” . Zo face 186
** Over a pipe and a glass” . - 187
On an. old sea-chest ; 200
Nina and I. » 201
Finis

. 214



Che Real Adbentures

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

INTRODUCTION.

SETTING FORTH THE “WuHy” AND THE “ WHEREFORE,”
ALSO THE “ How” AND THE “ WHEN,” WHICH IT IS
HOPED THE READER MAY CONSIDER AS BEING OF AN
EMINENTLY SATISFACTORY CHARACTER.

rE live in the era of the Great
Confidence Trick as _ illustrated

by Reminiscences, Recollections,



Confessions, Revelations from old
Manuscripts, Rummaging in old State Papers,
examinations of original documents, startling dis-
coveries and still more astonishing disclosures.
Now from the blackest characters, blackened or
whitened by partisan prejudice, the overlaying

coats of colour are gradually being scraped away,
B



2 The Real Adventures

and some persons who, as it was popularly sup-
posed, ought to have been hung instead of their
portraits, are found to possess beautiful benign
countenances, quite in keeping with the spotless
record of their lives recently unearthed in the
Dryasdust Department of the Pigeonhole Office.
On the other hand, many whom in our early
childhood we had been taught to admire as heroes,
to reverence as teachers, and to love as models
for our imitation, are now shown to us either as
fabulous personages, the creations of Myths, or
if they existed, the undeniable and undisputable
evidence of their lives proves them to have been
deserving the censure of all right-thinking persons
and the execration of ages yet unborn.

How these celebrities contrived to hoodwink their
contemporaries is, to a certain extent, a puzzle, but
it is not too much to say that the hypothesis of the
Cryptogram will account for the otherwise inexplic-
able silence which was purchased at the time by
those arch impostors, to whom, one ray of light
on the miserable secret of their lives meant utter,

hopeless and instant ruin.



of Robinson Crusoe. Bi

It is not astonishing, then, that the time should
have arrived when the world, towards the close
of this wonderfully inquisitive and in every sense
remarkably curious nineteenth century, should
discover that it had not yet heard the last word
about Lobinson Crusze. Only in the interests of
Truth would I venture to publish the extraor-
dinary papers placed in my hands by the eminent
firm whose names are appended to the first
document, to which I now beg to draw attention

by including it in these prefatial remarks.

The following extracts from the private diaries
of “John Robbingson Crewso,” originally thus
spelt, speak for themselves. The date is 1720.

We beg your closest attention to them :—

“ April t. Book published to-day. Received with immense
approval. Sale going on. Aly share will be big. Wish I
could get rid of my Inkybus.

“ April 8. First rate. Book precisely suits the highly re-
spectable and commercial public. Capital! Always thought
this style of autobiography would achieve success. It has.
Why was I not alone in this? What tyranny !

* * * * *



4 The Real Adbhentures

“ May. Netted £3000 clear. The book was an inspiration.
Yet not happy. /whybus.

* * * *Â¥ +

“July. Simply a fortune is this book. Invested, bought
property. Money is not happiness: wealth is, though. Now
what is the next idea? Zo buy off my Inkybus? What will
he take? When money’s a‘ drug in the market!’ I wish hed
take THAT—and remove himself.”

* * * * *

The allusions to the Inkybus, and to his evidently
having been writing under compulsion, are mys-
terious. I will not anticipate the solution, which
will be found in the confessions of the True Robin-
son. What his next idea was, will be gathered
from further extracted entries in a diary dated the

following year 1721.
* * * * *

“ Aug. The Respectable Robinson must not be overdone. Is
he played out? Why should I not tell people the truth? The
truth is not to be told at all times, but when it is, it should be a
startler. Suppose I protest against the other Robinson? How
about two Robinsons in the field? . . . I see a glimmer.
Or--Should it not be given to the public as a frank and open
confession of follies? Iam getting on in years, and folks who
have been so interested in the Ideal Robinson would be anxious
to know everything about the Real Robinson. But would sucha
work come well from the writer by whom they had already been



of Robtngson Crusoe. 5



so delightfully deceived? Yes: but not at first. I will tell
them that the Respectable Robinson is a fraud. I will publish
the true story of my life. Then I will admit that I wrote the
Respectable one as well. And will inform them Srankly that
I was not my own master at the time, but the slave of an
Inkybus.- The Inkybus ts no more. He ts gone: never to
return. at least, I hope not. Thus I shall obtain a double

success. Let me pen the sort of address to the public which
is bound to attract their attention.”

ADDRESS [OR CIRCULAR}.

“Since my return, and while living in the strictest seclusion,
it has come to my knowledge that a book of autobiographical
memoirs purporting to be the Adventures of Robinson Crusoe
has been published, and has met with unexampled success.
I have sent for the book, and hope while I am reading it
to obtain an interim injunction—so I think the lawyers term
the method of procedure—against the publishers. My own
book, compiled from memory, assisted by various diaries, has
been ready for some time past. I was merely keeping it back
for the sake of giving it those finishing touches which every
work of literature, or art, requires, ere it can be fairly placed
before the public. The publication of this other work, which
must be that of literally ‘Some Adventurer,’ forces my hand,
and, to quote ancient Will, ‘with all its imperfections on its
head,’ 1 must send forth my own little volume at once. For
this purpose I have invited subscriptions, and the list so far
looks uncommonly well. When the amount at present promised
is realised as cash payment, I shall immediately place my book
in the hands of some straightforward publisher, and it will be
issued in parts according to the total subscriptions, which must
be paid one quarter in advance.”

* * * * *



6 The Real Avdoentures

“ December. Arranging book—TZhe Truth about Robbingson.
My own publisher. — Szdbscr7ptions and orders coming in. Sale
of original work taken a fresh start. Shall defer the Real
Robinson. How astonished theyll be to learn (in about a year
or two,) that I wrote both, although the first was not written
with a freehand! !”

* * * * *

“That this plan,” I am now quoting from the
solicitors’ communication to me, “was never fully
carried out is now almost certain. There is no
record of any such work in the British Museum, nor
in the Public Library of Hull. Had the book been
published, it would doubtless have attracted con-
siderable attention on account of the unparalleled
success of the original Robinson. It would have
been followed by a pamphlet confessing that one per-
son had written both accounts. Among the papers
of ‘John Robbingson Crewso’ (so originally spelt)
are,—an old subscription list of names, against
several of which is marked ‘ paid,— numerous
orders for the forthcoming work, with letters
mentioning the amount sent as pre-payment,—a
number of unreceipted tradesmen’s bills, a printer’s

account (unpaid) for proofs and revises of ‘ Chapter



of Robingon Crusoe. a



First of the Reminiscences of F.R.C.,’ whichis clear
evidence of the author’s intention to publish the
remainder of the MS. since fortunately discovered
by a member of our firm. For ourselves, being
perfectly unprejudiced, we are of opinion that these
Reminiscences reveal the character of The Real
Robinson, and that the other work hitherto ac-
cepted as the only veracious account of Robinson
Crusoe’s Adventures, was written by its author
partly voluntarily, partly, and latterly, on com-
pulsion (which the strange narrative will be found
to fully explain), in order to suit the highly sensitive
respectability of the society with which, as a
nameless wanderer returning to his native country,
he was desirous of associating. This first book,
‘Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe,’ opened
society’s doors to him. He made money by it,
and on becoming free and independent, he was
about to own frankly that he had not always been
the irreproachable being as depicted by himself in
the previous successful book, when he was removed
from this transitory life, and his papers came into

the hands of the then existing representatives



8 Che Real Adbhentures



of our Firm. The packet was brought by a remark-
able youth attired in a curious sort of livery. His
hat was glossy with a silver band round it, the
brim being very much turned up at the sides. He
wore a collar open in front with a fall fastened by
a horse-shoe pin. This he informed us was ‘ for
luck.’ On the breast of the outer garment, which
we have every reason to believe was a frock-coat,
appeared three rows of enormous buttons made
of some metal closely resembling silver. After
delivering the packet he thrust his hands into his
capacious pockets and remained there steadily
regarding our office-boy, who, becoming alarmed,
summoned us to his assistance. But the messenger

was impervious. He replied curtly, civilly, and
2 satisfactorily to such questions as we put to him,
only making one observation at the close of our
examination-in-chief to the effect that ‘Though he
was not on his oath, yet he couldn’t tell a lie if he
were to try and was ina general way always gay
and hearty.’ After delivering himself of this
sentiment, or song-and-sentiment combined, he

turned on his heel, looking once over his shoulder



of Robinson Crusoe, 9

to inform us that his surname was Walker, and
that his christian prefix was also a surname very
nearly resembling the name of the ever-venerated
‘Judicious Hooker.’ Indeed the moment for his
departure was well chosen, as the Head of our Firm
arriving at the instant intimated his intention of
sending for a constable. This however is a
digression suggested by the fact of our junior
clerk, who had a pretty knack with his pencil,
having taken a life-like portrait * of the messenger
as he first appeared on the doorstep of our office.
That these papers should have been sent to us in
this manner remains in our six-and-eightpenny
opinion ever a mystery. Why was the page blank,
and why almost silent? Why did he say as, after
our interrogatories, he handed in the last portion
of the MS., ‘A page and leaves’ and then
immediately disappeared? Who sent him? Who
sent him with this MS.? The desire to part with
the papers betrayed itself.

_ “Does not this anxiety to relinquish a position
held under false pretences raise Robinson still

* See page 12.



10 Che Real Anbentures

higher in the opinion of honest men? Any
subscriptions towards a ‘Crusoe Memorial’ we
shall be happy to receive. We have by us a
small and valuable collection of ‘Crusoeian
Relics,’ for which we are open to any reasonable
offer. As for the manuscript, we have guaranteed
its genuineness and have disposed of it to an
eminent publishing house, who have intrusted the
task of editing to a literary gentleman who is
above suspicion. Our task is done.

We have the honour of signing ourselves

WALKER BoGus BROTHERS & Co.,
Solicitors, Diamond Merchants, and General Agents,

Crusor BuILpIncs, 1, LIrrLe QUEER STREET,
BLACKCHAPEL, E.C.”

Premising only that, after carefully perusing the
above document, and, according to instructions,
having edited, revised, and arranged “The Remini-
scences of John Robinson Crusoe,’ I have no
hesitation in expressing my own conviction that we
have here before us The Very Robinson, I place the

entire collection in the hands of a generous public,



of Robingon Crusoe. II



which, in the hope of spreading the truth, or of
exposing an impudent forgery, or with both objects
combined, will order, I sincerely trust, thousands
of copies of this valuable publication, and will
send it, regardless of expense, to every spot in the
habitable globe where the name of Robinson

Crusoe is known.
The Recorder of Robinson, Ed.





A Blank Page.

[See page 8.



CHAPTER I.

THE ROBINSON RECORD.—HIS PARENTS.—DZ
MORTUIS NIL NISI BONVUM.

f= Y DEAR father was a



very peculiar man.
He had been twice
married. I was the
elder of two boys
whom he called his
sons, as I believe
we were, though
I have never had
more than his word
for the statement.
My father, al-
A very Peculiar Man. though generally
regarded as of a serious turn, had a strong sense of
humour himself, but he lacked appreciation of the

Same quality in others; and though I say it who



14 The Real Anbentures

should not, I question very much whether he was
to be implicitly relied upon in every case. Of my
mother I can say nothing, as I lost her when I was
quite a baby. Of my “second mother,” as I used to
call Billy’s, my younger brother’s or half-brother’s
mamma, I cannot say much. She disappeared,
and my third mother I lost also at an early
age. My father accused me of carelessness.
But I was not to blame, as when I lost her it was
through his fault, not mine, as I shall forthwith
proceed to show. The simple narrative is as
follows :—

One day we, that is, my step-mother and I, were
out together picnicking,—Billy being confined tc
barracks, that is the nursery,—when a strange tal!
man in a sort of uniform, whose face I shall never
forget, came up to her and whispered something in
her ear. She bade me take no notice, and told me
I could go on eating the gooseberry pie with as
much sugar and cream as I chose, and might then
fill myself a bumper of some currant wine, which
I did with a gusto that left little to be desired

and none to be obtained. As my father somewhat



of Robinson Crusoe. 15

finely used to say, “that’s a currant that will play
old gooseberry with some of them.” I smiled: in
my earliest days I always smiled at my father’s wit.
The recollection of the occasions when I failed to
smile is still painful. But I had an honest attach-
ment to the currant wine, which never did me any
harm, however it might have treated others who
made its acquaintance for the first time late in life.

After finishing the remains of everything, I fancy
I must have fallen asleep, as I remember nothing
until I found myself seated on the step of my
father’s door, wrapped in a piece of sail-cloth
labelled ‘‘ Zzttle Fohn Robinson, Funtor, No. 1,
Queen Street, Hull—this sede up wrth care,’ and a
watchman with a lantern (as was the custom in those
nights) standing by me, who said he had already
knocked at the door. That he stated the truth was
soon proved by the appearance of my father, who
was so rejoiced at seeing me again that he could
scarcely contain his joy, but must needs hug the
watchman, and so bang and cuff him in the
ecstasy of his great delight as to render him

perfectly senseless and unable to use his rattle, of



16 The Real Adbentures

which, however, my father had taken the precaution
to deprive him at the earliest stage of their friendly
encounter. As for me, I ran up stairs and beheld
the scene from the first-floor window ; and thinking,
mere child that I was, that my father might take
some harm from the warmth of his zeal which
seemed to have reached fever heat, with great
presence of mind I seized the cold-water jug and
emptied its contents right on to his bald head.
This served its purpose, and my father, who was
ordinarily a pious man, though without any preten-
sions to be a saint, used such awful language as he
rushed up the staircase to my little room that, as
I informed him through the keyhole, “he was not
fit to be admitted into the society of gentlemen,’—
indeed, he was only attired in his dressing-gown,
' slippers, and night-cap,—“ and that therefore, with
great reluctance, I should continue to keep my door
shut, or should spring the watchman’s rattle ’’—
which, childlike, I had carried upstairs with me, in-
tending to use it as a plaything, and so accidentally
had a command of the situation; ‘‘ which,’ I con-

tinued, “would alarm the neighbours, and I should



of Robinson Crusoe, 17

be forced to give evidence against him before the
magistrates, when he would not only be imprisoned
for assault, but also fined five shillings for every
oath hehad used; and as by my own reckoning hehad
uttered exactly one hundred of these awful expres-
sions, his knowledge of arithmetic would enable
him to arrive at the sum for which he would be
mulcted.”’ I also reminded him that, though a
mere infant, “I knew the nature of an oath,”
and could swear to the nature of every one he
had used while pummelling the watchman. His
interview through the keyhole at first created a
certain coolness between us, yet, I may say, I felt it
less than did my worthy sire, who was only in the
costume I have already described, with nothing
warm about his legs, while I lay in my own little
bed with my blankets round me, from which coign
of vantage I delivered the greater portion of my
harangue. Billy, my half-brother, was shivering
in his cot, not knowing what to make of it; but
the threat of a boot at his head caused him to retire
under the bedclothes, and be no more heard or

seen till the following morning.

S



18 The Real Adventures

After this incident, my father and I became the
warmest friends, and as the watchman’s story was
not believed by anybody, my father being one of
the most respectable persons—and there were a
great many such—in Hull, and as the watchman’s
rattle, which we had burnt as fire-wood, could
not be found anywhere, and as, further, I
denied all knowledge of the circumstances (what
son so bad as not to stretch a point for his
father ?} the unfortunate watchman was degraded,
his badge indorsed, and himself transferred to a
county gaol, where, in the distractions of night and
day duty, he would soon forget the episode in his
chequered career which had ended so sadly for
him, and so fortunately for me, as I was now
taken into my father’s confidence; and, I may add,
there was scarcely anything he did of which I was
long in ignorance. Yet I was sorry for the loss of
my second step-mother, the third Mrs. Robinson.
She had been very kind to me, and often would I
rush at my father with a broomstick or coal-shovel
when he was more demonstrative than usual in

his display of passionate attachment towards her,







aN RY
No Oo \
ay /,
Wy






oe

ye
AW



\)

‘‘Ta-ra-ra Boom to-day.”—O/d Song.

[P. 19



of Robinson Crusoe. 19

and stand between him and the object of his
affection.

Poor dear third mother! I am not surprised
that she disappeared with the tall military-looking
stranger and never wrote, sent for her things, or
re-appeared in the old house of Hull.

“ec olim meminisse juvabit,’ which quotation
in the original tongue shows that my education

has not been neglected.



20 The Real Adbentures

(Glgvaediisey 1Ul
EARLY IMPULSES.

» HAVE already men-

tioned the existence



of a younger half-
j brother. “ Half-a-
loaf” may be “ better
than no bread,’ but
half-a-brother is worse
than no brother at all.
His name was “ Little
Billy.’ He was a
stupid and expensive
boy. It was in consequence
of his stupidity that he was
always being sent to fresh
schools and regularly ‘“ de-

2

clined with thanks” after

Little Billy. the second half. My father



of Robinson Crusoe, 21



used to style him “ School-Billy,” and often have I
heard him complain of the enormous amounts my
brother’s education cost him. However, as Billy
invariably returned to us with horrible tales of
starvation, poor feeding, insufficient care, and
cruelty generally,—charges which he brought
against all his teachers, from the head-master to
the last usher,—and as my father, who was not a
man to be trifled with, at once threatened criminal
proceedings against each school in turn, I am now
of opinion that Billy was not quite so expensive a
boy as my father would have made him out to be;
and I know as a fact that on two occasions, the
school authorities compromised the threatened
action by giving a receipt in full for the year’s
account, and in addition fitting out my brother with
an entirely new suit of clothes of the best material
and cut in latest fashion.

“Suit against suit,” quoth my father, cheerfully,
‘‘ quite neat and appropriate.”

After this episode half-brother Billy became my
father’s favourite, and, as was natural, fell in my

estimation. I saw through his wiles. He had



22 Che Real Adventures

only to pretend to be bullied at school to insure
being petted at home. I set myself to adjust the
balance, and so far succeeded, that during one short
vacation, my half-brother declared, that in future

he would rather remain permanently at school.



Adjusting the Balance.



of Robinson Crusoe. 23

GHAPTER. 111:

.MAKING A NAME.

Y half-brother com-
plained to my father
of my conduct to-
wards him, but, un-
fortunately for little
Billy, our parent
knew too much of
the true nature of
the “atrocities,” of
which Billy was

alwayscomplaining



at school, to give

mlilycin Dissrace: entire credence to
his charges when brought against me (who was
now once more in favour with my father) at home.

Besides this, Billy was always prying and sneaking



24 The Real Anbentures



about, so that in many cases when my father failed
to punish him, I, as the elder brother, efficiently re-
presented the paternal action. At last 1 was weary
of Billy, and either he or I would have to quit.
I regret to say that, when my father had lost five
sovereigns, they were found im my brother's secret
drawer.
* a % * %

Next day Billy was sent abroad. Who took him
there I forget; where he went I was not informed.
He left without a word of regret, without admitting
his guilt, but, on the contrary, protesting his
innocence. He quitted the house without bidding
me good-bye. This, however, was pardonable, as I
was absent at the moment of his departure, and
perhaps, had I been present, the separation might
have been painful to one, or both, of us. On my
desk I found a letter in Billy’s handwriting to this
effect :—Fack, you thief and liar, you have blackened
my character, look out. When I grow up big and
strong I'll give you the soundest thrashing you ever
had tn your life. Hoping that you will have had many

a sound one before that time arrives, I leave you.”



of Robinson Crusoe. 25



Here followed a somewhat indifferent drawing of a
clenched fist and nose, with the inscription which
I copy from memory. This inartistic and
spiteful effort was signed simply “< Billy.” In my
diary at that time I find this entry: “ Billy gone !
shall we ever mect again? Not if I know it.” .

- How Fate dealt with us both, time and this book
will show.* We might have got on very well to-
gether if he had only exhibited more good-fellow-
ship towards.me. I know he frequently excited
suspicions of me in the minds of those who would
otherwise have trusted me with considerahle sums.
T had defied him to bring his innuendos to the proof.
The moment came when I, much against ‘my will,
was the means of proving to him, to my father and
to all our little world that—but I have already told
the story of the five sovereigns. Had they been
found in my box—but they were not. He was a
revengeful, morbid, sneaking, back-biting cur was
my half-brother. He had short black curly locks,

* The slight allusion to my brother contained in that work of fiction
which I shall call Tue Fatse RosINson, 7s purposely misleading.

Wiy it was so will be shown in the course of this trustworthy and
veracious narrative of facts.—F. R. C.



26 The Real Adbentures





and I think Mrs. Robinson number two was a
quadroon or something of that sort. Which fact
would account for a good deal that subsequently
occurred. For the present enough. I shall pass on
to other matters,

I have never been able to ascertain exactly what
class of industry originally brought my father to
Hull. His answer to my questions on this subject
was invariably in the form of advice to “mind my
own business,” and my retort as invariably was,

2

“Your business is mine;’’ and indeed, in spite of
his unlimited confidence in me, it was not until I
had discovered—I always had a turn for exploring
—several. engraving plates, tools, patterns of
bank notes and impressions of our Gracious
Sovereign’s head and tail, as seen on the current
coin of the realm [with the appearance of which,
however, I was not too familiar—though I have
often had in the course of my subsequent career to
bewail and account for its dsappearance] I say it
was not until I had discovered these ’graving tools
and other implements, that I was able to go to my

father with more than filial boldness, and advance my



of Robinson Crugor, = 27
claim on his affection for a small share in the profits,
while abstaining from any offer of participating
actively in the work.

Indeed, I was not made for toil of any descrip-
tion, and preferred to pass my days in idleness,
roaming about Hull, going down to the pier, watch-
ing the boats, making ducks and drakes on the water,
tossing coins with the youth of ‘my own age,—but
not of my own intelligence,—for luncheons, dinners,
and drinks, in which hazards fortune kindly supple-
mented whatever was lacking in my skill, and I could
count on a very decent income to be derived from
most games wherein the aforesaid element of skill —
reduced the uncertainties of chance to a minimum,
—such for example as the diversions of billiards,
bagatelle, and a few of the superior games of cards ;
so that, had the occasion arisen, I should have been
no charge on my industrious father; nor, if my
parent, in the mysterious designs of Providence, had
been withdrawn from me, should I have wanted for a
meal, or indeed for as many meals as might have
Satisfied my naturally good appetite in the course

of the day. I was young, I was idle. I admit



28 The Real Adbentures



it.* Now that the ungrateful and malicious Bill
had departed, I was the only son. My father said,
“He did not like to see me lounging about with my

2

hands in my pockets.” The retort was obvious, but
I am glad to remember now that I did not make it,
and to this reticence on my part I attribute his
assuming towards me in the course of the year a
more confidential attitude than had hitherto been
his wont.

I regret to say that I affected many fopperies
about this time. Iwas but a lad of seventeen, but
both in manner and dress I was far in advance of
my years, for I needs must be attired in the latest
fashion, come home at the latest hours, and indulge
in sleep when my father was already up and at work.

I soon became “the cock of the walk,’ as the
phrase is, and perhaps my bearing towards my
equals and superiors. was not all that would have
approved itself to. true modesty ; yet it is no great
laudation of myself to say that Nature had done
for me what.she had left undone in others,:so that

I was physically. and intellectually a couple of

* In The False Robinson this is also admitted. —Eb.



of Robinson Crusoe. 29

inches taller and several degrees stronger than
most of my companions.

Having visited London at my father’s wish,
whence I returned without his express permission,
—having a great desire to see him on a matter
of some importance,—I was able, as the billiard
markers had it in the slang of the time, “to put
on side,” and to comport myself greatly to the
admiration of both sexes, young and old, in our
native town.

“The cock crows so!” would the wise elders
exclaim, and so it came about that (as I have been
informed, not being myself evidence of the fact) the
gossips, old and young, would inquire of one
another, “Did he crow so yesterday?” “Ay,”
would be the answer, “he crew so!.... you
never !!”

How nick-names grow, and become fixed, cling-
ing to the sturdy oak—and I was sturdy, though a
-sapling, with alas! very little “sap,” in the school-
boy sense of the term—about me. “ Crew so” stuck
to me.

Being of a sluggish disposition [I never lose my



30 The Real AdLentures

temper except when a sense of injury rouses my
indignation, and then, Heaven forgive me! Tama
very lion on the war-path] I used to spend some
of my leisure leaning against a garden-seat that
adorned the exterior of The Three Plucky Pigeons—.
a well-known hostelrie whose bar and billiard-room
I frequently patronised, to the great content of
mine host, a very worthy man,—and having a

pretty wit for poetry and music I sang:

Yes, Iam Robinson Crew-so,
And I can use a good cue so.

Here I illustrated my meaning dramatically, whereat
they were immensely tickled :
Come to the table,

And if you are able,
Conquer young Robinson Crew-so!

The challenge was accepted. I lost my first two
games, but as luck would have it, when I had
boldly backed myself for a heavy sum and a dinner
at the hostelrie, to be moistened with a few bottles
of my excellent host’s best Oporto, fortune changed,

and I just contrived to win by five,—a near thing,



of Robinson Crusoe. 31

of which my companions after dinner tried to
take a mean advantage. Their schemes came to
nothing, however, and before midnight I was
enabled to return home far richer than all my com-
panions put together. I call this the “ Memorable
Robinson Crew-so Evening,’—and so did they.
Perhaps they do so to this day.*

From this time forth I added Crusoe (thus spelt)
to my name to distinguish me from my father

Robinson senior.

* There is the stamp of truth in the account of the otherwise appa-
rently odd surname,—Eb.



Making a Name.



32 The Real Adventures

CHAPRTE R® AV.

DEVELOPING.



TILL I was not com-
pletely happy, nor
at matire age, and
where there is no-
thing to be gained
by avowal, or con-
cealment, of the
honest truth, am I
able to affirm that
I have ever known
the man who was
perfectly happy,

Robinson depressed. though I have come
across some poor simple creatures who, without one
halfpenny to rattle against another in their pockets
to be spent on their own pleasures, and working for a

wife andfamily entirely dependent on their exertions,



of Robinson Crusoe, 33



have affirmed that they were entirely contented with
theirlot. Their “‘lot!’’—their “little” I should have
said. But I always put them down as poor-spirited
humbugs, nay, hypocrites, with whom I have no-
thing in common, and wouldn’t have even if I could.

Yet, all things considered, I was about as happy
as any other young fellow of my own weight, size,
age, and skill. I may fairly say that I never cost my
dear father one single penny more than he could
afford to give me, and of what that amount was,
who could be so good a judge as I? Not that with-
out a murmur he used to hand me over a certain sum
every quarter-day,—I was always noted for my strict
punctuality in matters of business,—nor do I
hesitate to admit that he did not present me with
such other trifling amounts as my necessities
demanded from time to time, without a protest
which was, as I often pointed out to my father, quite
unworthy of him.

He had recently started a Joint Stock Bank—
Robinson, Bogus & Co.—and his signature of “ Jack
Robinson” to a cheque or a bill was as good as

cash without discount.



34 The Real Adventures



About this time I believe my father sent a con-
siderable amount of money abroad. I never in-
quired into the matter, as I fancied it was for my
brother’s schooling. To this day Iam not sure of
the fact. I saw what I thought were foreign notes,
but it only struck me. as odd that they should be
sent abroad from here. Perhaps I was wrong.
They might have been given in exchange. It was
not my business, I am glad to say. The only
evidence I had of my half-brother’s existence was
a notice which arrived by post from the Brazils
intimating that “William Robinson of Hull, son of
John,” intended to adopt the same surname as that
of his half-brother, and would henceforth be known
as “William Robinson Crusoe.” How he had
obtained the information I didn’t care to inquire,
and indeed at the time I was inclined to consider
the message as a hoax. I did not communicate the
news to my father, not considering it of sufficient
importance.

My father wrote a bold though a clerkly hand,
and many a time, to save him trouble, for about this

period he was dreadfully overworked, I used to draw



of Robinson Crusoe. 35





and sign a considerable number of cheques, chiefly
small ones, on behalf of the firm; for as “Mr.
Bogus” and “Co.” were non-resident,—and, indeed,
to speak truly, I had never seen these parties in my
life,—I felt justified, always with the object of sparing
my father as much labour as a dutiful son is bound
to do, in signing for the absent partners as well
as for my revered parent. What came of this
consideration on my part will be seen in the next
Chapter.

| Zz
yj ZZ a |)

= a
= i
= V4 ls
“y nimly fi)
Ee i















ASS
j



BZ — \ WW
TB i, J A ye My
A :

| |

Ala SS















36

Che Real Adnbventures



CHAPTER V.

A CRISIS FOR



Afflicted with Toothache.

CRUSOE.

NE afternoon, a memorable

one in my career, I was
afflicted with a severe
toothache. I am blessed,
I may say, with a power
of endurance beyond
most other men, and
rather than waste one:
of Nature’s gifts which.
can never be satisfac-
torily replaced, I would.
suffer agonies, and
indeed should have done
so, but for the assistance

ofa friendly chemist, who

let me have a large bottle of stuff with a very strong

and peculiar smell, one drop of which at once allevi-

ated pain, and the quantum of one pint taken off at a.



of Robinson Crusoe. ai



draught would, I presume, remove it so-entirely that
the sufferer would never more be troubled. Charged
with this bottle, (as in another sense I was, seeing
that my friend put it to my account, though I have
since been informed that he has no sort of claim
upon me, the sale of this stuff being undoubtedly
illegal,—but this, I admit, made no difference to me
at the time, as legally or illegally dealing, all my
tradesmen received equal measure from me)—and
being temporarily relieved from pain, I went to the
office before the hour of closing. Never liking to
obtrude where I am not required, I had contrived
a small secret entrance by which I could gain
access at any time to the partners’ private room.
On entering the apartment quietly, I was somewhat
surprised to find my father engaged apparently
in finishing some minute instructions to the junior
clerk, in whose hand I noticed more than one five-
pound Bank of England note, a circumstance that
struck me as odd, seeing that nearly all our deal-
- ings were through the medium of paper issued. by
the County Banks. Struck by this incident, I

offered to withdraw, but my father assured me there



38 The Real Adbentures



was no necessity for my so doing, and bestowing a
kindly nod on the youthful clerk—Simon was his
name—which the latter did not appear to me to
receive in the Lest possible spirit, though at the
same time, just as he was passing out of the door
into the counting-house, I could not help observing
a movement of his right eye which had all the
marked character of a confidential wink.

Simon closed the door after him, and my father
locked it on the inside, and then procuring a pass-
book and ledger motioned me to be seated, and
commenced to address me in the most earnest and
affectionate manner possible.

“John,” he said, “our name stands high in the
world of commerce. Our name is an excellent one.”

“Excellent,” I replied, remembering how fre-
quently I had written it, and not precisely foresee-
ing the turn the conversation was about to take.

“When a Firm, like a man, is popular, it will be
familiarly known by some sort of nick-name,’’ he
observed.

I acquiesced. He had evidently heard of “ Rob-

binson Crew-so.”



of Robinson Crusoe. 3)



“You may have come across the name by which,
as the youthful Simon has recently informed me, we
are familiarly known in the commercial world?” he
inquired.

I hesitated. I had heard a whisper of it, but I
fancy they had been afraid to utter it plump out-
right in my presence.

“ Putting Bogus & Co. aside, who, as the merry
wags say, are the partners that should most fittingly
represent the firm, the same small wits style us not
Robinson but ‘ Robbing-father,’ and Robbing-son.’”
And here he paused.

I jumped up indignantly.

“Can we lie under such an imputation?’ I ex-
claimed.

“That is precisely the best course to take,” re-
turned my father, “for the wind will be tempered
to the shorn lamb.”

“Who is the shorn lamb?” I asked respectfully.

_ “I cannot particularise,’ returned my father ;
“there are so many of them.”
“But,” I ventured to observe, “you said the wind

would be tempered—”



40 The Real Adoentures



“Yes,” my father calmly interposed, “ when raised.
The wind must first be raised, then tempered.”

I admitted the justice of the remark, and was
silent.

“John,” continued my father, ‘the calamities
of mankind afflict the highest and the lowest.
Through luxury and extravagance, the monarch on
his throne may be suffering agonies of indigestion
during a long Court ceremony ; or to take a less
dignified illustration, the tramp during his night’s
sojourn at the workhouse may have to complain of
indifferent ‘skilly. The great middle class is alone
the safe one, intended by Providence to bear the
greatest burdens themselves, and to exist for the
benefit of the highest and the lowest.”

“ Ouousgue tandem ?” I said to him with playful
affection, being anxious to show that he had not
vainly expended money on my classical education.

“What were you pleased to observe, John?” he
inquired in his wise and grave manner.

“Sir,” I replied, somewhat abashed, “I expressed
in ancient Latin the old question, ‘What are you

driving at?’”



of Robinson Crusoe. 41

“Tn a tandem ?” he asked, with a touch of inde-
finable irony. “I was not aware that the Romans
drove their horses in that fashion. But enough of
pleasantry. There are the highest and the lowest in
intelligence and in capacity for business, as well as
in stations of life. The middle intelligence may be
as easily the sport of the latter as the prey of the
former, but it will be the fault of the highest
capacity if it does not make use of what the great
middle-class, which is the backbone and sinew of
all commerce, provides for it.’’*

I acquiesced, and cheerfully observed that Robin-
son, Bogus & Co. ought to be doing an uncommonly
fine business, judging from the unexceptionable
character of their paper, and the great respect and
esteem in which they were held by all men of
business, not only in our own town but throughout
the commercial world.

My father heard me to the end, and then, ina
voice wherein I fancy I detected the notes of deep
emotion,—I was never very slow at detecting any-

* The sketch here given of the elder Robinson’s style is so far in
accordance with the allusions to him in THE FALSE ROBINSON as fo

prove a common original, —Ev.



42 The Real Adbentures



thing deep,—thus resumed his discourse: ‘‘ My
dear John,’ he said, producing several cheques,
which at first I did not recognize, but soon guessed
whose drawing they were, “you are a born artist.”
I bowed. “But as, in the interests of truth, a father
should never flatter his son, I am bound to tell you
that you arenotagenius. Genius is original. Now
in all your designs,’ and this word he used with
marked emphasis, “I remark no touch of original
genius, nor in your numerous drawings do I see
anything but the merest copies Of? 2:3; where he
hesitated, then resumed, “ of, I will say, an old
master. With the best intentions in the world, my
dear John,—and you am sure would be the last to
disavow them—I must inform you that you will not
benefit the firm of Robinson, Bogus & Co. by per-
severance in this course, and as you have hitherto
constituted yourself ‘Bogus & Co.,’ I shall now
proceed to dissolve partnership. I have taken
the precaution of settling everything on my
wife.” :

“ Married again!” I exclaimed in utter astonish-

ment.



of Robinson Crusoe, 43



*‘And settled,’ he replied. ‘‘ Yesterday, at the
Church of St. Simon Without. Had you, my boy,
been in the habit of attending that place of worship
every Sunday, you would have heard the banns duly
published. Mrs. Robinson has a snug jointure of
her own, and we are going to live at some distance
from our native land, which I recommend you also
to quit wzthin the next four-and-twenty hours, as,
after that time, our shutters will be up. The old
house”’—here my father was visibly affected—“ will
be ‘to let furnished ’—with a man in possession
within it; and you, my dearest boy,’ and he
grasped my hand warmly, “you have to make your
choice.. On the one hand, a copyist’s career sud-
d2aly terminated by incarceration; on the other,
wherever it may be, as the poet says, ‘fresh fields
and pastures new ’—a perfect description of a spot
most propitious to the exercise of your talents,
where there is plenty of verdure about, and where
a young fellow like yourself can be up and dong.”
Here a noise in the outer office attracting his atten-
tion, he broke off suddenly in his discourse, motioned

me to silence, and stepping stealthily to the wall he



44 The Real Anbentures

showed me a small hole bored in it, through which
aperture he could command whatever was going on
in the outer office, at the same time indicating to
me a similar one to which, as I understood from
him, Iwas at once to apply my eye. This is what I
saw, and what I presume my dear father did too.

Two men, one with a red waistcoat, from which
sign of authority I gathered that he was either a
beadle or a Bow Street Runner, and the other in a
shabby suit, stood before the counter engaged in
conversation with our youngest and, temporarily,
our only clerk, the others having obtained leave of
absence for the eve of St. Swithin’s Day (a festival
that my excellent father always made a point of
religiously observing—over his table being in-
scribed St. Swithin’s admirable maxim about
“providing for a rainy day ”)—and evidently much
puzzled by the youth’s answers.

“No he ain’t in now, an’ he ain’t likely to be,”
says Simon, who had the simplest way with him,
“Cas he’s gone to Mr. Bogus’s ’ouse by coach, and
won’t be back till to-morrow mornin,’ an’ as ’m

the only clerk left ’ere, and I think you're up to no



of Robinson Crusoe, 45



good, I’ll just let out Speaker, who'll give you a bit
of his mind, before I call a constable.” With
which he jumps down from his perch, and before
they could say “ Jack Robinson!” which name was
indeed on their lips, the faithful fellow looses a
bull-dog hitherto kept for precaution’s sake in
these troublous times, in a basket under the
counter, and Sfeaker, for such was the animal’s
name, “spying strangers in the house,’—which I
have since learned is a parliamentary expression,—
without more ado made for the nearest pair of
calves, and would have forced their owner to pay
for his rash intrusion, had not the greencoated red-
vested man fled precipitately. Honest Simon
called the dog back, barred the door, and my father
on coming out from the private room was com-
mencing with tears of joyful pride, and a flow of
eloquence I have rarely heard surpassed,—he was
a master of these two streams, which he could turn
on at pleasure, so that at any moment he was
able to secure a flood of tears and a flow of elo-
quence, nay, even to pour out a torrent of invective,

—I say, he was about to employ these mighty



46 Che Real Adbentures



forces in order to express his high commendation
of the lad’s praiseworthy conduct, when Simon,
standing at some little distance from us (my father
being within a few paces of the door-mat, and my-
self just within the doorway,) and still holding
Speaker by a stout chain, cut short my father’s pero-
ration, somewhat rudely, with the brief exclamation,

““O stow that gammon!”

As a scholar, I have since read of the surprise of
Epaminondas at finding the mouse in his helmet ;
of the startled look of Leonidas the bravest of the
brave, on observing the suddenly rebellious attitude
of Kokasnukos ; I have pictured to myself the wrath
‘of Poluphoisboio on being answered by his hitherto
gentle partner Molasses; the indignation ex-
pressed on the face of Socrates when the drachma
was returned to him as being of doubtful value;
but, putting all these and many other historical and
classical instances together, and combining their
forces, they could not approach in sublimity to the
expression of suppressed painful emotion that
passed across my father’s features at this inexcus-

able rudeness on the part of his Arotég¢, Simon.



of Robinson Crusoe. 47



My father drew from his breast-pocket a hand-
kerchief, exclaiming, as he raised it to his eyes,

“The viper that I have cherished in my bosom.”

“JT daresay it is,” said Simon, “ it looks as if it
wouldn’t be the wuss for awash. What do I mean?”
he asked in reply to my father. ‘Why I mean that
’ere wiper as you're a moppin’ yer heyes with and
as you was a talking about chirruping in your
buzzum.”

' My father intimated gently that he would speak
with him in private.

“No, sir,’ replies Simon, in a decided tone,
<“wot you've got to say will be said in the presence
©’ Speaker, which he knows me as feeds him, and
don’t know yow. So you just ’and over coin afore
the ’ole biz’ness busts up, or blessed if I don’t fetch
the constables. I’ve been a doop long enough.
Ah! would jer?”

This last adjuration was addressed either to my
father or Speaker who was nobly struggling to be
free.

“«Doop,’ as you call it, or not,’ observed my

father cheerfully, “here is five pounds for you,” and



48 The Real Adbhentures



he held out a crisp looking “flimsy,” such being, as
I believe, the technical term in his trade. ‘‘I think,”
he added playfully, ‘‘ you'll soon change your note.”

«« And where should J be if I did?” asked the lad
with a hideously cunning leer. ‘No, no; you go
and change your own notes for yourself, and give
me the ready-rhino.”

“How much?” asked my father, who was a
thoroughly business-like man.

“Two suv rins down,” says Simon, “ and I tieup
the dawg.”

My father readily produced the two gold pieces,
and stretching across to the counter, placed them
there, the dog dancing and jumping as if he were
straining the last link of his chain, which Simon
shortened with one hand, in order to allow of his.
reaching over to the counter, whence he took the
sovereigns and put them in his pocket.

“Now,” says Simon, “I shall tie up Speaker and
bolt. You can fasten the door after me, if you can
get past Speaker, and no one’s a bit likely to try to
get in as long as he’s there. And the last piece of
advice as I gives to both of you two, Robbing



of Robinson Crusoe. 49

father and.Robbing-son Crusoe, is just this. ...
‘Step wt? 1”

With which he made for the front door, the dog
getting to the length of his chain, in a vain attempt
at following his youthful friend.

But as there is many a slip ’twixt cup and lip, so
are there just as many on a rough floor over a door-
mat. And here was an instance in point. Down
went Simon, sprawling. Speaker ran up to him,
thrust his nozzle under his ear, and exhibited
signs of the utmost distress. The poor boy but
now so gay and festive, lay stunned in a swoon,
having fallen against the iron threshold. My
father was just commencing a discourse on the
vanity of the best intentions, when, fearful lest the
dog should do the lad any injury, I slipped dexter-
ously behind the counter, and drew the dog’s chain
sharply through the iron ring in the floor to which
it was fastened. Speaker resisted, but my strength
was too much for him, and in spite of his strug-
gles, for it never occurred to the obstinate brute to
run at me, I close-hauled him, as the sailors say,
up to the ring, and fastened the other end of the

chain to the bars of the grate.
E



50 The Real Anbentures



It now occurred to me that the strong smelling
stuff which I had procured an hour or so ago as a
remedy for toothache, might restore the unconscious
youth, and sprinkling a few drops on my handker-
chief, I applied it to his nostrils without, however,
its having any other apparent effect than that of
rendering his trance the sounder. It became impossi-
ble to wake him. Turning to ask my father’s advice,
I could not see him anywhere, and then it broke
upon me that for the last few minutes, while my
hands had been full, his must have been full also,
as the only cash-drawer in the place was open and not
a single sixpence was vestble. My excellent-parent

was nowhere to be seen!



Close-hau’ed.



of Robtnson Crusoe, 51



CHAPTER VI.

A NEW DEPARTURE.



=

seh

2 U .

SS
Ss

Speaker set free.

NSTEAD of delivering
myself up to useless
grief at my father’s dis-
appearance, I removed
the chain from the grate,
kept it tightly in my
hand until I reached
the door of our private
room, when I-let it run
out, for I detest cruelty
to animals. Speaker
was free to welcome his
prostrate companion on
his showing any signs
of returning animation,

or to fly at any in-

truder who, 1 was sure, would not venture to

E 2



52 - The Real Anbentures



enter the premises on the chance of encounter-
ing so formidable a guardian. Gathering toge-
ther several parcels of new clothes and haber- —
dashery, a valise ready packed with somebody
else’s name on it (it was that of my young friend
Adolphus Jones who had confided it to my care
during our last visit to London together) and
some small savings which had been intrusted to
me by friends for investment,—and I have always
tried to prefer my friends’ interest to my own,—I
opened the secret door and passed out into the street
unperceived by a single soul. My luggage was
somewhat of a burden to me, for it must be
borne in mind that I had passed my days in com- ,
parative luxury, and though a stalwart young
fellow enough among others of inferior size and
weight, I had never been compelled to perform any
such menial office as that on which I was now
engaged for my own benefit. It grieved me that.I
should not have a few parting words with my father,
but after all, as we had had plenty of words together
already, and parting or meeting would not add

much to their force, this was mere sentiment, but,



of Robinson Crusoe. 5a



sentiment, I admit, has always been the weak side
of my character; and so, walking down to the quay
at early dawn, I was fortunate enough to find a
Levantine brig on the point of departure.

At that very moment the captain, with whom I
had some weeks before, as it chanced, contracted
amicable relations,—I playfully styling him the
“Captain of my acquaintance-ship, ’—was taking a
loving farewell of, as I conceived her to be, his wife, a
remarkably pretty and attractive young woman
whom, asI was sorry to learn, he was compelled by
the rules of his particular service to leave behind him
at Hull every time he departed on a cruise which
might be, as the poet has beautifully expressed it,
“for years, or it might be for ever,’—a rather
lengthy period for a young woman to be left quite
alone. Whether she would have been Je/t quite alone

“was a question I might have stopped to consider had
not my immediate business with the Captain been
to propose myself as a passenger for the Levantine
Islands, a beautiful climate as I had been informed ;
whereupon the Captain, thoroughly overcome by

his feelings, which found their expression in sobs,



54 The Real Adbentures



sighs, vows, protestations of fidelity, and violent
huggings and squeezings, protested that he was
only too glad to take a friend with him to cheer
him on the voyage, and so saying he ran down
the companion-ladder to bid the purser prepare a
cabin for me at once.

«“ Anexcellent man, your Captain!’ I exclaimed,
addressing the disconsolate young woman who was
vainly attempting to stem the torrent of her tears.

“Ah me!” she sighed, ‘what shall I do with-
out him! O, Sir, when you visit other climes,
watch over him, for my sake!”

“JT will,” I replied sincerely, for the sight of an
unprotected female always excites my compassion,
especially when she is in distress. “I will, I
swear! for your sake, my sweet angel!” and I took
her hand and pressed it respectfully to my lips.
Who would not have done the same in my position?

She felt she could confide in me. A woman’s
instinct in these matters is so true. She knew the
instant we met that her interests were, so to speak,

mine, and that as I drew her towards me, treating

her asI might have done a sister,—not my own, for



of Robinson Crusoe; 55



alas, I never had one, but as some one else’s sister, —
and looking down on her trustful upturned eyes, I
was about to assure her that my friendship towards.
her was no mere lip-service, when she drew away
from me somewhat quickly, murmuring as far as
my ear caught the words, “Take care,”...and
“Captain,” from which I concluded, on seeing the
skipper returning across the gangway, that she
was only re-iterating her adjuration to me to guard
and keep watch over her husband,—a task I had
already undertaken to perform.

We were standing behind one of the huge stone
pillars on the quay, so that the Captain did not at
once catch sight of us, but in another second, hailing
us heartily, he bade me come aboard at once, as
the bell was ringing and he had to set sail by
4 a.m., or he would be mulcted by his employers
in the sum of some hundreds of pounds. Whether
he was deceiving me or not in this statement
the reader will decide, if it be worth his while,
later on. Only if I were deceived at the out-set,
was I to blame if I retaliated at the finish ?

Anxious that he should not suffer on my account,



56 Che Real Adventures



I waited while he gave his wife a hearty smack, and
pushing him gently before me I told him to go first
as being a Captain by rank, I must follow only as a
humble land-lubbery sort of swab, and taking the
opportunity of pressing into the young woman’s
hand a short note [which I had had just time to
scribble with a copying pencil, that writes like ink,
on a leaf out of my note-book, | I uttered softly in
her ear a few words of consolation, saying that I
would write privately and give her news of the
Captain if she would furnish me with her address,
which in a timid hesitating way she whispered in
my ear to me by way of response.

The darkness of night was gradually dissolving
itself into a murky daybreak as the good ship
Crazy Fane set all sail and stood out for her course
due West. It was dark as I entered my cabin and
deposited my modest valise [with the name of
Ado!phus Jones on it], which I was taking with me
as a souvenir of the dear friend to whom it belonged,
of whom I should think as often as I cast my eyes
on his silver mounted brushes and other articles of

the toilet, and whom I might never see again on



of Robinson Crusoe. 57

this earth; and when in my comfortable berth I
stretched myself out, attired in a set of dear old
Dolly’s pyjamas, which suited me perfectly as
we were of the same height and build, and indeed
of much the same age, I began to meditate on the
strange series of events that had separated parent
from child, husband from wife, half-brother from
half-brother, friend from friend, and had brought
me to this situation, where, lying on my back,
drowsily dreaming, I just opened my eyes to see
through the port-hole the sun breaking forth
majestically from the murky atmosphere, gradually
developing a flaming brilliancy that gave warmth
and light all around,-and more than this, Hope!
For I am as most men are, if they will have the
honesty to own it, a trifle superstitious, and I hailed
the appearance of this glorious sun as a thrice
happyomen. Yes! good luck had smiled on me at
starting, for was it not a fortunate chance that
Adolphus Jones had left his well-stored valise with
me while he had gone to call on some friends? and
would he not be delighted to know of what service it

had been to his fond companion Robinson? I now



58 The Real Anbhentures





resumed a custom of mine of keeping an occasional
diary. I lately found some of its pages which have
assisted my memory in compiling these reminis-
cences. Here is the note on this occasion, ‘ Polly
Newport, Queer Street, Hull,’ and a memorandum
of my own letter to her which ran thus :—Deares?,
zt ts love at first stght. When you are free I wilt
marry you. Thereto I plight you my troth and
honor. Thine ever, J. ROBINSON CRUSOE.”



Polly.”



of Robinson

Crusoe, 59



INTERMEZZO.

[A parenthesis between Chapters VI. and VII. containing
passing observations on the plan and scope of the work, and
impressing on the casual reader the conviction of tts
veracity. |



A tearful object.

Y

readers will understand
how overcome with an-
guish I must feel when
presenting them with this
narrative, which goes far
to contradict their earliest
impressions of the extra-
ordinary probity of Robin-
son senior and the way-
wardness of his son. Vice,
when exhibited in its
sordid repulsiveness, can
never so attract the million
as will the fair show of

virtue. But Truth is above

every other consideration, and if by my silence I



60 The Real Adventures



should have assisted in strengthening and confirm-
ing the reputation gained by the writer whom I
may now style “the Other Robinson,’ I should
never cease to blame my own false and unworthy
reticence. JI am now coming to that portion of my
career from which the mists of romance must be
dispelled by the blaze of genuine verity. After
referring to my diaries made at the moment and
on the spot, I had a mind to print the truth and
falsehood in parallel columns, after the fashion
adopted by ‘the Other Robinson,’* when he
particularly wished to catch serious persons by
self-advertisement of his own remarkable piety.
But now that I am what then I only wished to make
the world believe I was, I feel I may honestly
declare, and without shame, what I really was.
For there are so many extenuating circumstances
and motives are so mixed that I am sure a dis-
passionate jury of my experienced countrymen and

fellow citizens will bring me in guilty of no greater

* Tt must be borne in mind that ‘THE FAtsE RoBINson” was
written as the true Robinson Crusve so frequently tells us, “* under com-
pulsion,” so that he would be sufficiently justified in alluding to his own
writing as the work of another hand.—Ep.



of Robingon Crusoe. 61

crime than that of yielding to temptations which
few could have resisted and of trying to appear
virtuous out of sheer admiration for noble qualities
which I almost despaired of ever possessing. In
writing that work I yielded to the desire of obtain-
ing a good reputation, the social value of which
had been impressed upon me by one whom I might
style the Imperious Dictator. End of Lntermeszzo.

I resume.



The Other Robinson.



62 Che Real Adbentures



CHAPTER VIL.
ON BOARD.

AWAKING I began

to consider that I



was not provided,
as I could have
wished, for a sea-
voyage, having, in-
deed, only four com-
plete sets of towis
clothes, made in the
latest fashion, with
stockings, shoes,

Awaking ! and buckles to
match, besides a gold-headed cane,—such as was
the mode among young ‘ Beaux” of that time,—
with my watch, seals, other jewellery, and diamond
snuff-box, for none of which things, I regret to

say, have I to this day seen any tradesman’s



of Robinson Crusoe. 63



account. If after this lapse of years they can
prove beyond question the legitimacy of their claims
I shall willingly discharge them. No one living
shall be honestly able to say that Robinson Crusoe
owes him a single penny to which he may be legally
entitled. However, as far as these worthy people
were concerned, if they had to wait some little time
for their money, it would only be as though they
had invested in a speculation which would not
immediately produce such profits as they had been
accustomed to realise; for I have since learnt that
these tailors, shoemakers, haberdashers, and such
like, are in the habit of paying ridiculously small
wages to poor hard-working souls who must take
what they can get. or starve, while for these very
goods they charge their customers at the rate ot
eighty per cent. interest, and then, forsooth, make
a merit of deducting five or even ten per cent. for
ready cash!

As I regarded my brand-new things, there was
some consolation in the thought that I, at all
events, was not contributing one farthing towards

this infamous traffic. Still it was a matter of some



64 The Real Adbentures



regret that Lhad not ordered a nautical costume with
waterproofs to match, which I should have done
in London if, when visiting the metropolis, I had
had the slightest idea of the necessity that was
about to arise. However, I determined to rectify
the omission on the first opportunity, when we
should put into some port, where there might be a
town with some good tradesmen in it. So thinking,
I tumbled out of my berth, and, thanking my lucky
stars for the tranquillity of the sea, I set myself
straightway to dress, a task that, with the assist-
ance of the steward, or whatever he was,—for I am
ignorant in such matters,—I managed to accomplish
without much difficulty. It is true that twice or
thrice the vessel gave a sort of lurch, which, on one
occasion, threw me on my back into my large
canvas bag, and, on another, sent all poor dear
Adolphus’s silver pomatum pots, scent bottles, hair-
brushes, combs, flying about in every direction.
The worst thing that happened was the upset of a
bottle of boot-polish over my best cambric shirts,
which annoyed me so greatly that I did not go to

breakfast at the Captain’s table in the sweetest



“of Robinson Crusoe. 65



possible humour. It is this sort of thing that
unhinges great minds: a stupendous crisis in-
volving utter ruin would not affect a man of genius
so deeply as the’ splitting of 4 “pair of new white
gloves just as he was entering: a drawing room, or
the snapping in twain of the same Genius’ shoe-tie

while he was fashionably promenading.



New White Gloves.



66 The Real Anbentures



CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAPTAIN’S WILL.



The Skipper.

IIE captain of Zhe

Crazy Fane was a
fairly honest fellow,
though, consider-
ing his capacity for
taking a quantity,
rather too fond of
the bottle, that is
when there was
anything in it worth
drinking ; though I
am bound to say
that for the bottle
itself, as a bottle,

he cared little or

nothing, often flinging one at the head of the

cabin-boy or second-mate, or throwing it out to



of Robinson Crusoe: 67



sea in order to amuse himself by taking a pot-shot
at it with a fowling-piece. On these occasions I
might have made a lot of money, as he invariably
backed himself at odds to hit the neck of the
bottle, which he only succeeded in doing once
in fifty times. However, I was satisfied by in-
sisting on his limiting his wagers to crowns
instead of sovereigns, as by this he could enjoy
double the amount of sport for precisely the same
sum.

The skipper confided all his family matters
to me,—and that such matters were extensive and
various may be surmised from what I shall have to
say later on, if] am permitted to finish these con-
fessions, in which I begin to recognise the task of
my life,—I say the skipper confided in me, asking
my advice, which I gave him willingly, only re-
gretting that I had not complied with my father’s
request to qualify myself as a solicitor, as then I
should have been able to make the usual legitimate
charge of six shillings and eightpence for every
opinion with which, whether in writing or verbally, I
might favour my client. It suddenly occurred to me

F 2



68 The: Real ADbhentures



that I had seen a licence to practisé engrossed on a
parchment,'so I was’able to draw one upon plain
paper from memory, and to affix to it ‘a large
official seal,—it was the seal of our Company,
Robinson, Bogus & Co. This I presented to the
captain as my solicitor’s. diploma, who thenceforth
treated me with extraordinary respect, seldom
asking me for more than one piece of advice per
diem, for which he paid down ready money. Be it
clearly understood that I do not hold up my conduct
as a model for general imitation. I am simply
stating facts.

“My friend,’ I said to him one day, “a sailor's.
life is hazardous. You have a wife at home?”

He nodded, and a silent tear in his eye spoke
volumes.

“Your wife is unprovided for,” I continued. ‘ So-
are your children.”

Again he nodded, and another silent tear wetted
the other eye and spoke more volumes. I presumed
he had children, or why should he be thus affected.
at my mention of them?

“‘Let me recommend you,” I said, “while you



Of Robison. Crusoe. 69



-.are -hale and hearty, to; dispose’ of your ‘real
and personal property. In short—if you ask my
advice—”

“JT do,” he replied, at once handing over six and
eightpence, for which, being always scrupulous in
such matters, I forthwith gave him a receipt.

“Then,” I resumed solemnly, “my advice is,
‘Make your will while the ship rolls.’”

“Make it three bells,’ he exclaimed heartily ;
“pipe all hands to grog, serve out the pens, ink
and paper, and Will it is!”

We descended to the captain’s cabin, and having,
as he expressed it, ‘formed a Jorum,’ we sat down
to the work; he dictating, I writing.

Now though I took great care in drawing out
this document and interlarding it with ‘ Afore-
saids,” ‘‘ Whereases,” ‘The said So-and-so on the
one part,” and so forth, repeating these phrases as
often as possible so as to cover some dozen sheets of
paper for which he insisted on paying me so much ger
folio, yet the entire document came to no more, as
far as its meaning went, than this, “‘Z deave to Polly

Newport all my property whatever and wherever wt may



70 The Real Adbentures



be.’ Ladvised him to call her by her maiden name
as well as by her title as his wife, and he willingly
adopted my suggestion. We had a pleasant night
of it, and I felt sure I had induced him to do the
right thing.



Making the Captain's Will.



of Robinson Crusoe. 71



CHAPTER bX

THE REAL CRUISE O.

- E were delayed by
fF stress of weather

for some days, but at




ARS

length were enabled to

ROMO Ps

oN QA

put into a fine port on
the south-east coast of
Spain, a country cele-
brated for its chateaux
(of which I sub-
sequently purchased
several), for its ches-
SSs.2 nuts, onions, and liquo-
rice, and for its hand-

some women, whose

A Spanish belle.

charms our versatile

Captain was never tired of toasting, though as I



72" Ghe Meal ApGentures:



told him, I thought toasting was somewhat super-
fluous in so warm a climate.

During our voyage I had contrived to ingrati-
ate myself not only with the Captain (who taught
me all I know of navigation and much more which
I have forgotten), but also with the first mate and
the sailors down to the very smallest cabin-boy,
any one of whom would have jumped into the
water to serve me, a feat of no ordinary danger
seeing that not a single man-Jack of them could
swim a stroke. This ignorance of a most essential
accomplishment has always struck me as strange
in sea-faring men. But so it is. To those who are
born to be hanged, the hours spent in acquiring the
art of swimming would be so much wasted time.
For my part, I had been taught to swim when I
was six years old, and at seven I could dive to the
bottom of the deepest river in England and fetch
up chalk eggs. Many of my rivals in this exercise
used craftily to conceal the eggs in their hands
or in ‘their belt; but though I was frequently the
means of detecting this disingenuous conduct, I for

my-part.‘was.never once suspected, and without’



of :Rob{isow Crusoe, 73



a blush/I .maiy confidently: assert! thati:I never
once carried: a chalk egg: in my: hand or in my
belt; I mention this merely: to’ show: what sort
of man the Real Robinson always has been,
and not for the sake of reviving: an old and ‘useless
controversy. My readers must take the good’ with
the bad in these confessions, and if I honestly tell
them that I was neither all good nor all bad, I
do expect them to accept me at the valuation
which every virtuous citizen must put on candour
and plain speaking. ‘Enough of, this. As the
French say “assez,’—and I think the word as
pronounced very appropriate to a self-laudatory
idiot.

Our Captain, Jonathan Brown, was a gay dog, a
gay Lothario as the phrase is. It grieves me to
think of the lovely young creature Polly, to
whom he had bequeathed everything, and whom,
on a plea which had never entirely satisfied my
mind, he had left behind him in England. Yet,
it was difficult for me to refer to this delicate
subject. And delicate I’m afraid she was, poor

thing, needing: the tenderest care: The Captain



74 The Real Adoentures



might have brought her with him. Why he.
did not I understood as we proceeded on our
voyage. I pity a man with the Lotharian tempera-

ment. Was Polly Newport Mrs. Jonathan Brown or
, not? Over our grog and pipes at night the Captain
would sing me amatory ditties while I would
confine myself to those of a jovial complexion,
with which indeed I was better acquainted.

This was a song of which he was mightily fond.

THE CAPTAIN’S SONG.

The life of a sailor is ever jolly,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho !
He loves his dear Nancy, his Lucy, his Polly,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
His heart is as large
As a Newcastle barge,
And there’s room for full three times a score,
If a dozen go out
He just puts about
And ships a fresh dozen or more,
My boys,
Yeo ho! a fresh dozen or more !

On .some very fine evenings, we would. sit on

the deck, ‘and the sailors after piping all hands to



of Robinson Crusoe. 75

grog, would join in the chorus in a manner which,
for harmony and heartiness, I have never known
equalled by the greatest professional singers.
They were uncommonly fond of this liquor, and the
extra supply which was invariably granted them at
my request gave a joviality to our carouses that
many an Imperial roysterer might have envied.
The following was the remainder of the Captain’s

ditty

I married a wife in Timbuctoo,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
I promised I would be ever true,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
“ Unchanged I shall be
When to you from the sea
I return as I hope I shall do!”
Round the world I ranged
And I was unchanged
On returning to Timbuctoo,
My boys,
On returning to Timbuctoo.

I married a wife in Halifax,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
A sailor has only got to ax,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho:!
“You'll think of me still
-- When you're sailing!” “1 will,”



76

The Real Avbhentutes



Says I, and,1:did on.all tacks, aoa
_ Tl think of her ever,
* But bless her,—I’ll never
Go back to that Halifax,
: My boys,
Yeo ho! back to Halifax,

I married a wife in the South of France,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
A sailor should never refuse a chance,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho !
“Be my mate,” says she,
And I answers “ wee”
As you do when you parleyvoo.
She cries, “Don’t forget
Your little Jeanette.”
And I don’t,—as is plain to you,
My lads!
Yeo ho! ain’t it plain to you?

T would take me from now till the gay dog-watch,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
To sing of them all, Dutch, Indian, Scotch,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
So shout ha! ha!
For the Honest Tar
Whose heart is as big as the sea.
Of girls and of fishes
He hooks what he wishes
And he’s true as a Tar:can be,
i, «Brave boys !
Yeo ho! true.as Tar canbe !!



of: “Robinson Crusoe, 77



““Them’s my sentiments,” said the Captain, toss-
ing off a bumper, while the crew, their glasses being
emptied, observed an ominous silence. Could I
respect such a man? Could I but pity the girl
whose fate and fortune (he confided to me that she
had a pretty good sum safely invested) were in his
hands ? However, there was no help for it at present.
I foresaw that such conduct as this could not go
unpunished. But was J to be the minister of
vengeance or not? That was the question. The
answer was to be given, and sooner than I
had expected.

“A song! a song!” cried the crew after they
had been served with additional grog at my re
quest.

“A ditty!” cries Captain Jonathan Brown. “I
call on our visitor for a ditty.”

“T says ‘ditty’ to the Captain,’ I rejoined
humorously, and when the roar of laughter which
this sally caused had subsided, I gave them the
following bacchanalian song. Words and music

my own composition.



78 The Real Adbentures



-ROBINSON’S SONG.

You may boast of fine ladies
In England or Cadiz,
I won’t interrupt or pooh-pooh—so—
But the man I will throttle
Who won’t pass the bottle,
And so I advise you to do so.
You'll do so at once to young Crusoe,
You will—I am sure you will do so,
So give me what’s handy,
The gin, rum, or brandy,
By Jove ’tis all one to young Crusoe!

Chorus. (While they pass the liquor and drink):

We'll do so at once, my dear Crusoe,
Politely we couldn’t refuse, so

We'll pass round the brandy

Or anything handy
And drink to our Robinson Crusoe.

Then I sang the second verse:

You may talk of your treasures,
Your leisures and pleasures,
Of jewels, and brides with a troussea,
But give me Old Port O,
The genuine sort O,
Says jovial Robinson Crusoe.
But would I Madeira refuse O ?
Iam not that kindof recluse O !
Than all others quicker
Pll swallow the liquor,
Says jolly young Robinson Crusce



of Robinson Crusoe, 79



Chorus as before, until the Captain was under
hatches, and great progress had been made in our
voyage by all the crew being half-seas over. It
was now that I first got rid of the nickname which
had stuck to me on shore, and instead of being any
longer Robbingson Crew-so I re-spelt and adapted
the name, putting it into verse form so as to be
better remembered in case evidence of the fact
should: be required at some future time. It was a
wise man who said “ Let who will make the laws,
Ill write the songs.” And here is the extra verse

which they got by heart and sang with fervour :—

No matter what weather,
We're jolly together

And jolly we’ve been, though it blew so,
This Cruise—you may bet it ;
We'll never forget it—

We called it our Robinson Cruise, O!

| ‘The very first Robinson Cruise, O!
I wish we could get three or two so,
Put this to your lip, mate,
And drink to our ship-mate,
Our jolly Jack Robinson Cruise-O !

It was easy after this to say, that not wishing to



8 The Real Adoeritures



be egotistical, 'I would-omit the “i” from the: name,
or to give any other facetious reason as might suit
the company in which I might chancé to find:myself.

But to return to my voyage, the most memorable

aia

¢criiise o’ Crusoe.



voll Jack Robinson.



of Robinson

Crusoe, 81

CHAPTER X.

SARA GOSSA.




A Whispered Confidence.

Si
Hi py
M



\ AN Dp
y a

1s

TIE Captain now

confided to me that
his was no trader in
the ordinary sense,
butavessel engaged
in carrying goods
from one country to
another, and dis-

posing of them free

> of all customary in-

~ spection.

“So,” said I, de-

liberately, ‘(in plain

language, you are a smuggler.”
“Just that,” he replied, nodding pleasantly,
“and as I’ve taken a liking to you, I am ready

to offer you a share in such transactions as I am

carrying out for my own benefit as well as for

that of a private company.”

G



82 The Real Anbentures



“How can I serve you?” I cautiously inquired.

“You will impersonate a rich English merchant.
You can write a neat hand, several neat hands,” he
added slyly, and I own to having blushed at hear-
ing his praises as he continued, “and are nota bad
copyist, eh?”

I answered that I had some slight talent in that
direction.

“Good ;”’ he returned, ‘then at the next port
we put into we will take stores on board to the
amount of several thousand pounds, which you
shall pay for with bills of exchange, signed by
the London firm of Walker, Martin, and Co.
See?”

I replied that I perceived his drift, and added
that in my opinion, as ‘‘ exchange was no robbery,”
so bills of exchange must be included in a com-
mercial proverb which was respected in all
countries. And after all the value of the circu-
lating medium is quite arbitrary.

He had other plans, andI entered into them with
all the energy of youth and the eagerness of
gratitude. For had not the Captain been of service

to me when I could obtain no other aid, and was I.



of Robinson Crusoe. 83



to forget this? No. Perish the thought! and
though I own my conscience was not altogether at
ease as to the kind of business in which my friend
was interested, yet was it a part of my duty to
inquire into the honesty of his purpose, or to repay
his trust with an ungenerous suspicion? He had
owned to the name of “Smuggler”! But the zame is
not the ¢kzg, and there is a vast difference between
an honest smuggler and a dishonest one. Besides,
who was I that I should become prosecutor, judge
and jury, and convict a man on his own unguarded
confession ?

At the next port—(and here I may say that the
names and dates given in the history of the Other
Robinson are so inaccurate as to be only remotely
founded on fact)—at the next port, the name of
which was Azuvero Sumtymagoa, the Captain re-~
quested me to see to everything, while he went
ashore “on” what he called “business.” No
sooner did our ship come alongside the quay, than
a dark brunette in Spanish dress playing the casta-
nets stood at one end of the gangway, and, no sooner
our luckless Captain, who had evidently quite for-

GFZ.



84 Che Real Anbentures



gotten her existence and had other plans in his
head, set eyes on her, than he staggered as if he
had been shot, and, muttering with an oath, “ Sara
Gossa here! Confound my geography!” he tried
to descend ths companion unobserved, but, to put
it pleasantly, the female companion was too quick
for him.

“Enriquez!” she called out, and at the same
time a black-bearded ill-looking ruffan with a
naked stiletto in his girdle whispered something to
her which I could see by his gestures was, ‘“ Shall
I go for him ?”

She inclined her head, and in another moment
the stiletto gleamed in the air like a flash of vivid
lightning, the man was among us, on deck, and I
was showing him, as politely as possible, for Iam not
partial to naked stilettos, into the Captain’s cabin.

“Avast! messmate! tip us your fin!” cried
our skipper, addressing the foreign visitor with
forced geniality, all the while looking as pale as
a turnip. Then the two men carried on a conver-
sation in a language which I did not comprehend,

but the purport of which it was not difficult to



Full Text


ic padig
VT DLDP Th
ee pyaee



Mh la-e Pt. The
THE REAL ADVENTURES

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOR,
x

neal

Mt

it
y

ye



Horrible Tails.
Che Real Adventures

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

By FE. €. BURNAND,

AUTHOR OF “‘ THE NEW HISTORY OF SANDFORD AKD MERTON,”
‘HAPPY THOUGHTS,” ETC., ETC.



With Fifty-six Illustrations by

LINLEY SAMBOURNE.

LONDON: BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp,
8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.
1893.
LONDON:
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS,
WHITEFRIARS.
TO ALL FOR WHOM
TRUTH
HAS Gees GREATER THAN
FICTION

THIS RECORD OF A SHORT BUT NOT UNEVENTFUL CAREER

IS

Respectfully Dedicated

BY THEIR OBEDIENT SERVANT,

THE REAL ROBINSON.
CONTENTS.

—_e—_

INTRODUCTION.

PAGE
SETTING FORTH THE “WHY” AND THE “WHEREFORE,”

ALSO THE “HOW” AND THE “WHEN,” WHICH IT IS
HOPED THE READER MAY CONSIDER AS BEING OF

AN EMINENTLY SATISFACTORY CHARACTER .. I
CHAPTER I.
THE ROBINSON RECORD—HIS PARENTS—DE MORTUIS
WIL NIST. BONUM ice oR OS eS
CHAPTER II.
ART Ve MPUESES (Uh ofc egl tia eo ee sce ota LEn SARIN Coa ZO

CHAPTER III.

MAKING A NAME . . : z 3 . 7 ie 23

CHAPTER IV.

DEVELOPING ceaeertees 5 : . ‘ & . 32

CHAPTER V.

A CRISIS FOR CRUSOE . f : 5 : : eshte 36
vill Co ntents,



CHAPTER VI.

A NEW DEPARTURE .

INTERMEZZO .

CHAPTER VII.

ON BOARD .

CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAPTAIN’S WILL

CHAPTER IX.

THE REAL CRUISE O.

CHAPTER X.

SARA GOSSA

CHAPTER XI.

A BUSINESS DINNER .

INTERMEZZO

CHAPTER XII.
ON SAIL OR RETURN?

PAGE

51

59

62

66

81

86

94

98
Contents.

CHAPTER XIII.

I SAIL WITH THE GALE

CHAPTER XIV.

THE TRUTH ABOUT THE ISLAND.

CHAPTER XV.

MORE TRUTH

CHAPTER XVI.
ISLAND DIARY CONTINUED

CHAPTER XVII.

AN AWFUL TIME

CHAPTER XVIII.

LEVEE OF BLACK MAIL

CHAPTER XIX.

“aM I NOT A MAN AND A BROTHER ?”

CHAPTER XxX.

ROBINSON, ATKINS, & CO.

CHAPTER XXI.

CONFIDENCES,.

ix



PAGE
107

135

143

151

156

165

171
x Contents.

CHAPTER XXII.

A HAPPY RETURN

CHAPTER XXIII

TREASURE RE-TROVE

CHAPTER XXIV.

WINDING UP AND STOPPING

PAGE

177

187

201
bisa

OF

ILLUSTRATIONS.

HorRIBLE TAILS

A Blank Page

A very Peculiar Man .
‘*TA-RA-RA BOOM TO-DAY” .
Little Billy .

Adjusting the Balance
Billy in Disgrace .
Making a Name

_ Robinson depressed
Robinson forges a Cheque
Afflicted with Toothache
Close-hauled .

Speaker set free .

‘© Polly ”

A tearful object .

The other Robinson
Awaking! .

New White Gloves .

The Skipper

PAGE

Frontispiece

. Lo face

I2

13
xii List of Lllustrations.



Making the Captain’s Will
A Spanish belle .

Jolly Jack Robinson

A whispered confidence
**Two to one”

Taking in Supplies

Acting on Impulse .

The Collaborator-in-chief
‘* Heaven defend the right ”
** Will Atkins” .

Alone on Board

Scanning the Horizon .
“*T was knocked about”.
‘On a gigantic rock ”

“‘ That repose which only innocence unconscious knows.”
The Fight for the Chicken .

‘© A Cat-anpD-Doc LIFE”

Tent making

**T took aim at the bird ”

‘* Where are we now?”

‘Was I on the track of a Blackfoot Indian ?” .
Arrowing Situation

‘« Spare my life,” I cried

The Neck Step .

‘Oh, blow it!”

**T won small sums” .

‘© T tumbled back on the straw ”

. To tace

PAGE
70
41
80
81
85
86
92
94
96
98

. 105

. 107

. 114
SDS

To face

125

. 126
. 131
- 135
. 141
- 143
- 148

To face

150

- 51

To face

154

- 156

- 165

- 170
Hist of Lllustrattons.



X11
PAGE
By the Sad Sea Wave, or an Indian Notion . Zo face 170
** After Dark!” . Nicaea UAL
Comfortable quarters - 176
‘* Arrayed in the best suit ” . : - 177
‘TI waited and waited” . Zo face 186
** Over a pipe and a glass” . - 187
On an. old sea-chest ; 200
Nina and I. » 201
Finis

. 214
Che Real Adbentures

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

INTRODUCTION.

SETTING FORTH THE “WuHy” AND THE “ WHEREFORE,”
ALSO THE “ How” AND THE “ WHEN,” WHICH IT IS
HOPED THE READER MAY CONSIDER AS BEING OF AN
EMINENTLY SATISFACTORY CHARACTER.

rE live in the era of the Great
Confidence Trick as _ illustrated

by Reminiscences, Recollections,



Confessions, Revelations from old
Manuscripts, Rummaging in old State Papers,
examinations of original documents, startling dis-
coveries and still more astonishing disclosures.
Now from the blackest characters, blackened or
whitened by partisan prejudice, the overlaying

coats of colour are gradually being scraped away,
B
2 The Real Adventures

and some persons who, as it was popularly sup-
posed, ought to have been hung instead of their
portraits, are found to possess beautiful benign
countenances, quite in keeping with the spotless
record of their lives recently unearthed in the
Dryasdust Department of the Pigeonhole Office.
On the other hand, many whom in our early
childhood we had been taught to admire as heroes,
to reverence as teachers, and to love as models
for our imitation, are now shown to us either as
fabulous personages, the creations of Myths, or
if they existed, the undeniable and undisputable
evidence of their lives proves them to have been
deserving the censure of all right-thinking persons
and the execration of ages yet unborn.

How these celebrities contrived to hoodwink their
contemporaries is, to a certain extent, a puzzle, but
it is not too much to say that the hypothesis of the
Cryptogram will account for the otherwise inexplic-
able silence which was purchased at the time by
those arch impostors, to whom, one ray of light
on the miserable secret of their lives meant utter,

hopeless and instant ruin.
of Robinson Crusoe. Bi

It is not astonishing, then, that the time should
have arrived when the world, towards the close
of this wonderfully inquisitive and in every sense
remarkably curious nineteenth century, should
discover that it had not yet heard the last word
about Lobinson Crusze. Only in the interests of
Truth would I venture to publish the extraor-
dinary papers placed in my hands by the eminent
firm whose names are appended to the first
document, to which I now beg to draw attention

by including it in these prefatial remarks.

The following extracts from the private diaries
of “John Robbingson Crewso,” originally thus
spelt, speak for themselves. The date is 1720.

We beg your closest attention to them :—

“ April t. Book published to-day. Received with immense
approval. Sale going on. Aly share will be big. Wish I
could get rid of my Inkybus.

“ April 8. First rate. Book precisely suits the highly re-
spectable and commercial public. Capital! Always thought
this style of autobiography would achieve success. It has.
Why was I not alone in this? What tyranny !

* * * * *
4 The Real Adbhentures

“ May. Netted £3000 clear. The book was an inspiration.
Yet not happy. /whybus.

* * * *Â¥ +

“July. Simply a fortune is this book. Invested, bought
property. Money is not happiness: wealth is, though. Now
what is the next idea? Zo buy off my Inkybus? What will
he take? When money’s a‘ drug in the market!’ I wish hed
take THAT—and remove himself.”

* * * * *

The allusions to the Inkybus, and to his evidently
having been writing under compulsion, are mys-
terious. I will not anticipate the solution, which
will be found in the confessions of the True Robin-
son. What his next idea was, will be gathered
from further extracted entries in a diary dated the

following year 1721.
* * * * *

“ Aug. The Respectable Robinson must not be overdone. Is
he played out? Why should I not tell people the truth? The
truth is not to be told at all times, but when it is, it should be a
startler. Suppose I protest against the other Robinson? How
about two Robinsons in the field? . . . I see a glimmer.
Or--Should it not be given to the public as a frank and open
confession of follies? Iam getting on in years, and folks who
have been so interested in the Ideal Robinson would be anxious
to know everything about the Real Robinson. But would sucha
work come well from the writer by whom they had already been
of Robtngson Crusoe. 5



so delightfully deceived? Yes: but not at first. I will tell
them that the Respectable Robinson is a fraud. I will publish
the true story of my life. Then I will admit that I wrote the
Respectable one as well. And will inform them Srankly that
I was not my own master at the time, but the slave of an
Inkybus.- The Inkybus ts no more. He ts gone: never to
return. at least, I hope not. Thus I shall obtain a double

success. Let me pen the sort of address to the public which
is bound to attract their attention.”

ADDRESS [OR CIRCULAR}.

“Since my return, and while living in the strictest seclusion,
it has come to my knowledge that a book of autobiographical
memoirs purporting to be the Adventures of Robinson Crusoe
has been published, and has met with unexampled success.
I have sent for the book, and hope while I am reading it
to obtain an interim injunction—so I think the lawyers term
the method of procedure—against the publishers. My own
book, compiled from memory, assisted by various diaries, has
been ready for some time past. I was merely keeping it back
for the sake of giving it those finishing touches which every
work of literature, or art, requires, ere it can be fairly placed
before the public. The publication of this other work, which
must be that of literally ‘Some Adventurer,’ forces my hand,
and, to quote ancient Will, ‘with all its imperfections on its
head,’ 1 must send forth my own little volume at once. For
this purpose I have invited subscriptions, and the list so far
looks uncommonly well. When the amount at present promised
is realised as cash payment, I shall immediately place my book
in the hands of some straightforward publisher, and it will be
issued in parts according to the total subscriptions, which must
be paid one quarter in advance.”

* * * * *
6 The Real Avdoentures

“ December. Arranging book—TZhe Truth about Robbingson.
My own publisher. — Szdbscr7ptions and orders coming in. Sale
of original work taken a fresh start. Shall defer the Real
Robinson. How astonished theyll be to learn (in about a year
or two,) that I wrote both, although the first was not written
with a freehand! !”

* * * * *

“That this plan,” I am now quoting from the
solicitors’ communication to me, “was never fully
carried out is now almost certain. There is no
record of any such work in the British Museum, nor
in the Public Library of Hull. Had the book been
published, it would doubtless have attracted con-
siderable attention on account of the unparalleled
success of the original Robinson. It would have
been followed by a pamphlet confessing that one per-
son had written both accounts. Among the papers
of ‘John Robbingson Crewso’ (so originally spelt)
are,—an old subscription list of names, against
several of which is marked ‘ paid,— numerous
orders for the forthcoming work, with letters
mentioning the amount sent as pre-payment,—a
number of unreceipted tradesmen’s bills, a printer’s

account (unpaid) for proofs and revises of ‘ Chapter
of Robingon Crusoe. a



First of the Reminiscences of F.R.C.,’ whichis clear
evidence of the author’s intention to publish the
remainder of the MS. since fortunately discovered
by a member of our firm. For ourselves, being
perfectly unprejudiced, we are of opinion that these
Reminiscences reveal the character of The Real
Robinson, and that the other work hitherto ac-
cepted as the only veracious account of Robinson
Crusoe’s Adventures, was written by its author
partly voluntarily, partly, and latterly, on com-
pulsion (which the strange narrative will be found
to fully explain), in order to suit the highly sensitive
respectability of the society with which, as a
nameless wanderer returning to his native country,
he was desirous of associating. This first book,
‘Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe,’ opened
society’s doors to him. He made money by it,
and on becoming free and independent, he was
about to own frankly that he had not always been
the irreproachable being as depicted by himself in
the previous successful book, when he was removed
from this transitory life, and his papers came into

the hands of the then existing representatives
8 Che Real Adbhentures



of our Firm. The packet was brought by a remark-
able youth attired in a curious sort of livery. His
hat was glossy with a silver band round it, the
brim being very much turned up at the sides. He
wore a collar open in front with a fall fastened by
a horse-shoe pin. This he informed us was ‘ for
luck.’ On the breast of the outer garment, which
we have every reason to believe was a frock-coat,
appeared three rows of enormous buttons made
of some metal closely resembling silver. After
delivering the packet he thrust his hands into his
capacious pockets and remained there steadily
regarding our office-boy, who, becoming alarmed,
summoned us to his assistance. But the messenger

was impervious. He replied curtly, civilly, and
2 satisfactorily to such questions as we put to him,
only making one observation at the close of our
examination-in-chief to the effect that ‘Though he
was not on his oath, yet he couldn’t tell a lie if he
were to try and was ina general way always gay
and hearty.’ After delivering himself of this
sentiment, or song-and-sentiment combined, he

turned on his heel, looking once over his shoulder
of Robinson Crusoe, 9

to inform us that his surname was Walker, and
that his christian prefix was also a surname very
nearly resembling the name of the ever-venerated
‘Judicious Hooker.’ Indeed the moment for his
departure was well chosen, as the Head of our Firm
arriving at the instant intimated his intention of
sending for a constable. This however is a
digression suggested by the fact of our junior
clerk, who had a pretty knack with his pencil,
having taken a life-like portrait * of the messenger
as he first appeared on the doorstep of our office.
That these papers should have been sent to us in
this manner remains in our six-and-eightpenny
opinion ever a mystery. Why was the page blank,
and why almost silent? Why did he say as, after
our interrogatories, he handed in the last portion
of the MS., ‘A page and leaves’ and then
immediately disappeared? Who sent him? Who
sent him with this MS.? The desire to part with
the papers betrayed itself.

_ “Does not this anxiety to relinquish a position
held under false pretences raise Robinson still

* See page 12.
10 Che Real Anbentures

higher in the opinion of honest men? Any
subscriptions towards a ‘Crusoe Memorial’ we
shall be happy to receive. We have by us a
small and valuable collection of ‘Crusoeian
Relics,’ for which we are open to any reasonable
offer. As for the manuscript, we have guaranteed
its genuineness and have disposed of it to an
eminent publishing house, who have intrusted the
task of editing to a literary gentleman who is
above suspicion. Our task is done.

We have the honour of signing ourselves

WALKER BoGus BROTHERS & Co.,
Solicitors, Diamond Merchants, and General Agents,

Crusor BuILpIncs, 1, LIrrLe QUEER STREET,
BLACKCHAPEL, E.C.”

Premising only that, after carefully perusing the
above document, and, according to instructions,
having edited, revised, and arranged “The Remini-
scences of John Robinson Crusoe,’ I have no
hesitation in expressing my own conviction that we
have here before us The Very Robinson, I place the

entire collection in the hands of a generous public,
of Robingon Crusoe. II



which, in the hope of spreading the truth, or of
exposing an impudent forgery, or with both objects
combined, will order, I sincerely trust, thousands
of copies of this valuable publication, and will
send it, regardless of expense, to every spot in the
habitable globe where the name of Robinson

Crusoe is known.
The Recorder of Robinson, Ed.


A Blank Page.

[See page 8.
CHAPTER I.

THE ROBINSON RECORD.—HIS PARENTS.—DZ
MORTUIS NIL NISI BONVUM.

f= Y DEAR father was a



very peculiar man.
He had been twice
married. I was the
elder of two boys
whom he called his
sons, as I believe
we were, though
I have never had
more than his word
for the statement.
My father, al-
A very Peculiar Man. though generally
regarded as of a serious turn, had a strong sense of
humour himself, but he lacked appreciation of the

Same quality in others; and though I say it who
14 The Real Anbentures

should not, I question very much whether he was
to be implicitly relied upon in every case. Of my
mother I can say nothing, as I lost her when I was
quite a baby. Of my “second mother,” as I used to
call Billy’s, my younger brother’s or half-brother’s
mamma, I cannot say much. She disappeared,
and my third mother I lost also at an early
age. My father accused me of carelessness.
But I was not to blame, as when I lost her it was
through his fault, not mine, as I shall forthwith
proceed to show. The simple narrative is as
follows :—

One day we, that is, my step-mother and I, were
out together picnicking,—Billy being confined tc
barracks, that is the nursery,—when a strange tal!
man in a sort of uniform, whose face I shall never
forget, came up to her and whispered something in
her ear. She bade me take no notice, and told me
I could go on eating the gooseberry pie with as
much sugar and cream as I chose, and might then
fill myself a bumper of some currant wine, which
I did with a gusto that left little to be desired

and none to be obtained. As my father somewhat
of Robinson Crusoe. 15

finely used to say, “that’s a currant that will play
old gooseberry with some of them.” I smiled: in
my earliest days I always smiled at my father’s wit.
The recollection of the occasions when I failed to
smile is still painful. But I had an honest attach-
ment to the currant wine, which never did me any
harm, however it might have treated others who
made its acquaintance for the first time late in life.

After finishing the remains of everything, I fancy
I must have fallen asleep, as I remember nothing
until I found myself seated on the step of my
father’s door, wrapped in a piece of sail-cloth
labelled ‘‘ Zzttle Fohn Robinson, Funtor, No. 1,
Queen Street, Hull—this sede up wrth care,’ and a
watchman with a lantern (as was the custom in those
nights) standing by me, who said he had already
knocked at the door. That he stated the truth was
soon proved by the appearance of my father, who
was so rejoiced at seeing me again that he could
scarcely contain his joy, but must needs hug the
watchman, and so bang and cuff him in the
ecstasy of his great delight as to render him

perfectly senseless and unable to use his rattle, of
16 The Real Adbentures

which, however, my father had taken the precaution
to deprive him at the earliest stage of their friendly
encounter. As for me, I ran up stairs and beheld
the scene from the first-floor window ; and thinking,
mere child that I was, that my father might take
some harm from the warmth of his zeal which
seemed to have reached fever heat, with great
presence of mind I seized the cold-water jug and
emptied its contents right on to his bald head.
This served its purpose, and my father, who was
ordinarily a pious man, though without any preten-
sions to be a saint, used such awful language as he
rushed up the staircase to my little room that, as
I informed him through the keyhole, “he was not
fit to be admitted into the society of gentlemen,’—
indeed, he was only attired in his dressing-gown,
' slippers, and night-cap,—“ and that therefore, with
great reluctance, I should continue to keep my door
shut, or should spring the watchman’s rattle ’’—
which, childlike, I had carried upstairs with me, in-
tending to use it as a plaything, and so accidentally
had a command of the situation; ‘‘ which,’ I con-

tinued, “would alarm the neighbours, and I should
of Robinson Crusoe, 17

be forced to give evidence against him before the
magistrates, when he would not only be imprisoned
for assault, but also fined five shillings for every
oath hehad used; and as by my own reckoning hehad
uttered exactly one hundred of these awful expres-
sions, his knowledge of arithmetic would enable
him to arrive at the sum for which he would be
mulcted.”’ I also reminded him that, though a
mere infant, “I knew the nature of an oath,”
and could swear to the nature of every one he
had used while pummelling the watchman. His
interview through the keyhole at first created a
certain coolness between us, yet, I may say, I felt it
less than did my worthy sire, who was only in the
costume I have already described, with nothing
warm about his legs, while I lay in my own little
bed with my blankets round me, from which coign
of vantage I delivered the greater portion of my
harangue. Billy, my half-brother, was shivering
in his cot, not knowing what to make of it; but
the threat of a boot at his head caused him to retire
under the bedclothes, and be no more heard or

seen till the following morning.

S
18 The Real Adventures

After this incident, my father and I became the
warmest friends, and as the watchman’s story was
not believed by anybody, my father being one of
the most respectable persons—and there were a
great many such—in Hull, and as the watchman’s
rattle, which we had burnt as fire-wood, could
not be found anywhere, and as, further, I
denied all knowledge of the circumstances (what
son so bad as not to stretch a point for his
father ?} the unfortunate watchman was degraded,
his badge indorsed, and himself transferred to a
county gaol, where, in the distractions of night and
day duty, he would soon forget the episode in his
chequered career which had ended so sadly for
him, and so fortunately for me, as I was now
taken into my father’s confidence; and, I may add,
there was scarcely anything he did of which I was
long in ignorance. Yet I was sorry for the loss of
my second step-mother, the third Mrs. Robinson.
She had been very kind to me, and often would I
rush at my father with a broomstick or coal-shovel
when he was more demonstrative than usual in

his display of passionate attachment towards her,




aN RY
No Oo \
ay /,
Wy






oe

ye
AW



\)

‘‘Ta-ra-ra Boom to-day.”—O/d Song.

[P. 19
of Robinson Crusoe. 19

and stand between him and the object of his
affection.

Poor dear third mother! I am not surprised
that she disappeared with the tall military-looking
stranger and never wrote, sent for her things, or
re-appeared in the old house of Hull.

“ec olim meminisse juvabit,’ which quotation
in the original tongue shows that my education

has not been neglected.
20 The Real Adbentures

(Glgvaediisey 1Ul
EARLY IMPULSES.

» HAVE already men-

tioned the existence



of a younger half-
j brother. “ Half-a-
loaf” may be “ better
than no bread,’ but
half-a-brother is worse
than no brother at all.
His name was “ Little
Billy.’ He was a
stupid and expensive
boy. It was in consequence
of his stupidity that he was
always being sent to fresh
schools and regularly ‘“ de-

2

clined with thanks” after

Little Billy. the second half. My father
of Robinson Crusoe, 21



used to style him “ School-Billy,” and often have I
heard him complain of the enormous amounts my
brother’s education cost him. However, as Billy
invariably returned to us with horrible tales of
starvation, poor feeding, insufficient care, and
cruelty generally,—charges which he brought
against all his teachers, from the head-master to
the last usher,—and as my father, who was not a
man to be trifled with, at once threatened criminal
proceedings against each school in turn, I am now
of opinion that Billy was not quite so expensive a
boy as my father would have made him out to be;
and I know as a fact that on two occasions, the
school authorities compromised the threatened
action by giving a receipt in full for the year’s
account, and in addition fitting out my brother with
an entirely new suit of clothes of the best material
and cut in latest fashion.

“Suit against suit,” quoth my father, cheerfully,
‘‘ quite neat and appropriate.”

After this episode half-brother Billy became my
father’s favourite, and, as was natural, fell in my

estimation. I saw through his wiles. He had
22 Che Real Adventures

only to pretend to be bullied at school to insure
being petted at home. I set myself to adjust the
balance, and so far succeeded, that during one short
vacation, my half-brother declared, that in future

he would rather remain permanently at school.



Adjusting the Balance.
of Robinson Crusoe. 23

GHAPTER. 111:

.MAKING A NAME.

Y half-brother com-
plained to my father
of my conduct to-
wards him, but, un-
fortunately for little
Billy, our parent
knew too much of
the true nature of
the “atrocities,” of
which Billy was

alwayscomplaining



at school, to give

mlilycin Dissrace: entire credence to
his charges when brought against me (who was
now once more in favour with my father) at home.

Besides this, Billy was always prying and sneaking
24 The Real Anbentures



about, so that in many cases when my father failed
to punish him, I, as the elder brother, efficiently re-
presented the paternal action. At last 1 was weary
of Billy, and either he or I would have to quit.
I regret to say that, when my father had lost five
sovereigns, they were found im my brother's secret
drawer.
* a % * %

Next day Billy was sent abroad. Who took him
there I forget; where he went I was not informed.
He left without a word of regret, without admitting
his guilt, but, on the contrary, protesting his
innocence. He quitted the house without bidding
me good-bye. This, however, was pardonable, as I
was absent at the moment of his departure, and
perhaps, had I been present, the separation might
have been painful to one, or both, of us. On my
desk I found a letter in Billy’s handwriting to this
effect :—Fack, you thief and liar, you have blackened
my character, look out. When I grow up big and
strong I'll give you the soundest thrashing you ever
had tn your life. Hoping that you will have had many

a sound one before that time arrives, I leave you.”
of Robinson Crusoe. 25



Here followed a somewhat indifferent drawing of a
clenched fist and nose, with the inscription which
I copy from memory. This inartistic and
spiteful effort was signed simply “< Billy.” In my
diary at that time I find this entry: “ Billy gone !
shall we ever mect again? Not if I know it.” .

- How Fate dealt with us both, time and this book
will show.* We might have got on very well to-
gether if he had only exhibited more good-fellow-
ship towards.me. I know he frequently excited
suspicions of me in the minds of those who would
otherwise have trusted me with considerahle sums.
T had defied him to bring his innuendos to the proof.
The moment came when I, much against ‘my will,
was the means of proving to him, to my father and
to all our little world that—but I have already told
the story of the five sovereigns. Had they been
found in my box—but they were not. He was a
revengeful, morbid, sneaking, back-biting cur was
my half-brother. He had short black curly locks,

* The slight allusion to my brother contained in that work of fiction
which I shall call Tue Fatse RosINson, 7s purposely misleading.

Wiy it was so will be shown in the course of this trustworthy and
veracious narrative of facts.—F. R. C.
26 The Real Adbentures





and I think Mrs. Robinson number two was a
quadroon or something of that sort. Which fact
would account for a good deal that subsequently
occurred. For the present enough. I shall pass on
to other matters,

I have never been able to ascertain exactly what
class of industry originally brought my father to
Hull. His answer to my questions on this subject
was invariably in the form of advice to “mind my
own business,” and my retort as invariably was,

2

“Your business is mine;’’ and indeed, in spite of
his unlimited confidence in me, it was not until I
had discovered—I always had a turn for exploring
—several. engraving plates, tools, patterns of
bank notes and impressions of our Gracious
Sovereign’s head and tail, as seen on the current
coin of the realm [with the appearance of which,
however, I was not too familiar—though I have
often had in the course of my subsequent career to
bewail and account for its dsappearance] I say it
was not until I had discovered these ’graving tools
and other implements, that I was able to go to my

father with more than filial boldness, and advance my
of Robinson Crugor, = 27
claim on his affection for a small share in the profits,
while abstaining from any offer of participating
actively in the work.

Indeed, I was not made for toil of any descrip-
tion, and preferred to pass my days in idleness,
roaming about Hull, going down to the pier, watch-
ing the boats, making ducks and drakes on the water,
tossing coins with the youth of ‘my own age,—but
not of my own intelligence,—for luncheons, dinners,
and drinks, in which hazards fortune kindly supple-
mented whatever was lacking in my skill, and I could
count on a very decent income to be derived from
most games wherein the aforesaid element of skill —
reduced the uncertainties of chance to a minimum,
—such for example as the diversions of billiards,
bagatelle, and a few of the superior games of cards ;
so that, had the occasion arisen, I should have been
no charge on my industrious father; nor, if my
parent, in the mysterious designs of Providence, had
been withdrawn from me, should I have wanted for a
meal, or indeed for as many meals as might have
Satisfied my naturally good appetite in the course

of the day. I was young, I was idle. I admit
28 The Real Adbentures



it.* Now that the ungrateful and malicious Bill
had departed, I was the only son. My father said,
“He did not like to see me lounging about with my

2

hands in my pockets.” The retort was obvious, but
I am glad to remember now that I did not make it,
and to this reticence on my part I attribute his
assuming towards me in the course of the year a
more confidential attitude than had hitherto been
his wont.

I regret to say that I affected many fopperies
about this time. Iwas but a lad of seventeen, but
both in manner and dress I was far in advance of
my years, for I needs must be attired in the latest
fashion, come home at the latest hours, and indulge
in sleep when my father was already up and at work.

I soon became “the cock of the walk,’ as the
phrase is, and perhaps my bearing towards my
equals and superiors. was not all that would have
approved itself to. true modesty ; yet it is no great
laudation of myself to say that Nature had done
for me what.she had left undone in others,:so that

I was physically. and intellectually a couple of

* In The False Robinson this is also admitted. —Eb.
of Robinson Crusoe. 29

inches taller and several degrees stronger than
most of my companions.

Having visited London at my father’s wish,
whence I returned without his express permission,
—having a great desire to see him on a matter
of some importance,—I was able, as the billiard
markers had it in the slang of the time, “to put
on side,” and to comport myself greatly to the
admiration of both sexes, young and old, in our
native town.

“The cock crows so!” would the wise elders
exclaim, and so it came about that (as I have been
informed, not being myself evidence of the fact) the
gossips, old and young, would inquire of one
another, “Did he crow so yesterday?” “Ay,”
would be the answer, “he crew so!.... you
never !!”

How nick-names grow, and become fixed, cling-
ing to the sturdy oak—and I was sturdy, though a
-sapling, with alas! very little “sap,” in the school-
boy sense of the term—about me. “ Crew so” stuck
to me.

Being of a sluggish disposition [I never lose my
30 The Real AdLentures

temper except when a sense of injury rouses my
indignation, and then, Heaven forgive me! Tama
very lion on the war-path] I used to spend some
of my leisure leaning against a garden-seat that
adorned the exterior of The Three Plucky Pigeons—.
a well-known hostelrie whose bar and billiard-room
I frequently patronised, to the great content of
mine host, a very worthy man,—and having a

pretty wit for poetry and music I sang:

Yes, Iam Robinson Crew-so,
And I can use a good cue so.

Here I illustrated my meaning dramatically, whereat
they were immensely tickled :
Come to the table,

And if you are able,
Conquer young Robinson Crew-so!

The challenge was accepted. I lost my first two
games, but as luck would have it, when I had
boldly backed myself for a heavy sum and a dinner
at the hostelrie, to be moistened with a few bottles
of my excellent host’s best Oporto, fortune changed,

and I just contrived to win by five,—a near thing,
of Robinson Crusoe. 31

of which my companions after dinner tried to
take a mean advantage. Their schemes came to
nothing, however, and before midnight I was
enabled to return home far richer than all my com-
panions put together. I call this the “ Memorable
Robinson Crew-so Evening,’—and so did they.
Perhaps they do so to this day.*

From this time forth I added Crusoe (thus spelt)
to my name to distinguish me from my father

Robinson senior.

* There is the stamp of truth in the account of the otherwise appa-
rently odd surname,—Eb.



Making a Name.
32 The Real Adventures

CHAPRTE R® AV.

DEVELOPING.



TILL I was not com-
pletely happy, nor
at matire age, and
where there is no-
thing to be gained
by avowal, or con-
cealment, of the
honest truth, am I
able to affirm that
I have ever known
the man who was
perfectly happy,

Robinson depressed. though I have come
across some poor simple creatures who, without one
halfpenny to rattle against another in their pockets
to be spent on their own pleasures, and working for a

wife andfamily entirely dependent on their exertions,
of Robinson Crusoe, 33



have affirmed that they were entirely contented with
theirlot. Their “‘lot!’’—their “little” I should have
said. But I always put them down as poor-spirited
humbugs, nay, hypocrites, with whom I have no-
thing in common, and wouldn’t have even if I could.

Yet, all things considered, I was about as happy
as any other young fellow of my own weight, size,
age, and skill. I may fairly say that I never cost my
dear father one single penny more than he could
afford to give me, and of what that amount was,
who could be so good a judge as I? Not that with-
out a murmur he used to hand me over a certain sum
every quarter-day,—I was always noted for my strict
punctuality in matters of business,—nor do I
hesitate to admit that he did not present me with
such other trifling amounts as my necessities
demanded from time to time, without a protest
which was, as I often pointed out to my father, quite
unworthy of him.

He had recently started a Joint Stock Bank—
Robinson, Bogus & Co.—and his signature of “ Jack
Robinson” to a cheque or a bill was as good as

cash without discount.
34 The Real Adventures



About this time I believe my father sent a con-
siderable amount of money abroad. I never in-
quired into the matter, as I fancied it was for my
brother’s schooling. To this day Iam not sure of
the fact. I saw what I thought were foreign notes,
but it only struck me. as odd that they should be
sent abroad from here. Perhaps I was wrong.
They might have been given in exchange. It was
not my business, I am glad to say. The only
evidence I had of my half-brother’s existence was
a notice which arrived by post from the Brazils
intimating that “William Robinson of Hull, son of
John,” intended to adopt the same surname as that
of his half-brother, and would henceforth be known
as “William Robinson Crusoe.” How he had
obtained the information I didn’t care to inquire,
and indeed at the time I was inclined to consider
the message as a hoax. I did not communicate the
news to my father, not considering it of sufficient
importance.

My father wrote a bold though a clerkly hand,
and many a time, to save him trouble, for about this

period he was dreadfully overworked, I used to draw
of Robinson Crusoe. 35





and sign a considerable number of cheques, chiefly
small ones, on behalf of the firm; for as “Mr.
Bogus” and “Co.” were non-resident,—and, indeed,
to speak truly, I had never seen these parties in my
life,—I felt justified, always with the object of sparing
my father as much labour as a dutiful son is bound
to do, in signing for the absent partners as well
as for my revered parent. What came of this
consideration on my part will be seen in the next
Chapter.

| Zz
yj ZZ a |)

= a
= i
= V4 ls
“y nimly fi)
Ee i















ASS
j



BZ — \ WW
TB i, J A ye My
A :

| |

Ala SS












36

Che Real Adnbventures



CHAPTER V.

A CRISIS FOR



Afflicted with Toothache.

CRUSOE.

NE afternoon, a memorable

one in my career, I was
afflicted with a severe
toothache. I am blessed,
I may say, with a power
of endurance beyond
most other men, and
rather than waste one:
of Nature’s gifts which.
can never be satisfac-
torily replaced, I would.
suffer agonies, and
indeed should have done
so, but for the assistance

ofa friendly chemist, who

let me have a large bottle of stuff with a very strong

and peculiar smell, one drop of which at once allevi-

ated pain, and the quantum of one pint taken off at a.
of Robinson Crusoe. ai



draught would, I presume, remove it so-entirely that
the sufferer would never more be troubled. Charged
with this bottle, (as in another sense I was, seeing
that my friend put it to my account, though I have
since been informed that he has no sort of claim
upon me, the sale of this stuff being undoubtedly
illegal,—but this, I admit, made no difference to me
at the time, as legally or illegally dealing, all my
tradesmen received equal measure from me)—and
being temporarily relieved from pain, I went to the
office before the hour of closing. Never liking to
obtrude where I am not required, I had contrived
a small secret entrance by which I could gain
access at any time to the partners’ private room.
On entering the apartment quietly, I was somewhat
surprised to find my father engaged apparently
in finishing some minute instructions to the junior
clerk, in whose hand I noticed more than one five-
pound Bank of England note, a circumstance that
struck me as odd, seeing that nearly all our deal-
- ings were through the medium of paper issued. by
the County Banks. Struck by this incident, I

offered to withdraw, but my father assured me there
38 The Real Adbentures



was no necessity for my so doing, and bestowing a
kindly nod on the youthful clerk—Simon was his
name—which the latter did not appear to me to
receive in the Lest possible spirit, though at the
same time, just as he was passing out of the door
into the counting-house, I could not help observing
a movement of his right eye which had all the
marked character of a confidential wink.

Simon closed the door after him, and my father
locked it on the inside, and then procuring a pass-
book and ledger motioned me to be seated, and
commenced to address me in the most earnest and
affectionate manner possible.

“John,” he said, “our name stands high in the
world of commerce. Our name is an excellent one.”

“Excellent,” I replied, remembering how fre-
quently I had written it, and not precisely foresee-
ing the turn the conversation was about to take.

“When a Firm, like a man, is popular, it will be
familiarly known by some sort of nick-name,’’ he
observed.

I acquiesced. He had evidently heard of “ Rob-

binson Crew-so.”
of Robinson Crusoe. 3)



“You may have come across the name by which,
as the youthful Simon has recently informed me, we
are familiarly known in the commercial world?” he
inquired.

I hesitated. I had heard a whisper of it, but I
fancy they had been afraid to utter it plump out-
right in my presence.

“ Putting Bogus & Co. aside, who, as the merry
wags say, are the partners that should most fittingly
represent the firm, the same small wits style us not
Robinson but ‘ Robbing-father,’ and Robbing-son.’”
And here he paused.

I jumped up indignantly.

“Can we lie under such an imputation?’ I ex-
claimed.

“That is precisely the best course to take,” re-
turned my father, “for the wind will be tempered
to the shorn lamb.”

“Who is the shorn lamb?” I asked respectfully.

_ “I cannot particularise,’ returned my father ;
“there are so many of them.”
“But,” I ventured to observe, “you said the wind

would be tempered—”
40 The Real Adoentures



“Yes,” my father calmly interposed, “ when raised.
The wind must first be raised, then tempered.”

I admitted the justice of the remark, and was
silent.

“John,” continued my father, ‘the calamities
of mankind afflict the highest and the lowest.
Through luxury and extravagance, the monarch on
his throne may be suffering agonies of indigestion
during a long Court ceremony ; or to take a less
dignified illustration, the tramp during his night’s
sojourn at the workhouse may have to complain of
indifferent ‘skilly. The great middle class is alone
the safe one, intended by Providence to bear the
greatest burdens themselves, and to exist for the
benefit of the highest and the lowest.”

“ Ouousgue tandem ?” I said to him with playful
affection, being anxious to show that he had not
vainly expended money on my classical education.

“What were you pleased to observe, John?” he
inquired in his wise and grave manner.

“Sir,” I replied, somewhat abashed, “I expressed
in ancient Latin the old question, ‘What are you

driving at?’”
of Robinson Crusoe. 41

“Tn a tandem ?” he asked, with a touch of inde-
finable irony. “I was not aware that the Romans
drove their horses in that fashion. But enough of
pleasantry. There are the highest and the lowest in
intelligence and in capacity for business, as well as
in stations of life. The middle intelligence may be
as easily the sport of the latter as the prey of the
former, but it will be the fault of the highest
capacity if it does not make use of what the great
middle-class, which is the backbone and sinew of
all commerce, provides for it.’’*

I acquiesced, and cheerfully observed that Robin-
son, Bogus & Co. ought to be doing an uncommonly
fine business, judging from the unexceptionable
character of their paper, and the great respect and
esteem in which they were held by all men of
business, not only in our own town but throughout
the commercial world.

My father heard me to the end, and then, ina
voice wherein I fancy I detected the notes of deep
emotion,—I was never very slow at detecting any-

* The sketch here given of the elder Robinson’s style is so far in
accordance with the allusions to him in THE FALSE ROBINSON as fo

prove a common original, —Ev.
42 The Real Adbentures



thing deep,—thus resumed his discourse: ‘‘ My
dear John,’ he said, producing several cheques,
which at first I did not recognize, but soon guessed
whose drawing they were, “you are a born artist.”
I bowed. “But as, in the interests of truth, a father
should never flatter his son, I am bound to tell you
that you arenotagenius. Genius is original. Now
in all your designs,’ and this word he used with
marked emphasis, “I remark no touch of original
genius, nor in your numerous drawings do I see
anything but the merest copies Of? 2:3; where he
hesitated, then resumed, “ of, I will say, an old
master. With the best intentions in the world, my
dear John,—and you am sure would be the last to
disavow them—I must inform you that you will not
benefit the firm of Robinson, Bogus & Co. by per-
severance in this course, and as you have hitherto
constituted yourself ‘Bogus & Co.,’ I shall now
proceed to dissolve partnership. I have taken
the precaution of settling everything on my
wife.” :

“ Married again!” I exclaimed in utter astonish-

ment.
of Robinson Crusoe, 43



*‘And settled,’ he replied. ‘‘ Yesterday, at the
Church of St. Simon Without. Had you, my boy,
been in the habit of attending that place of worship
every Sunday, you would have heard the banns duly
published. Mrs. Robinson has a snug jointure of
her own, and we are going to live at some distance
from our native land, which I recommend you also
to quit wzthin the next four-and-twenty hours, as,
after that time, our shutters will be up. The old
house”’—here my father was visibly affected—“ will
be ‘to let furnished ’—with a man in possession
within it; and you, my dearest boy,’ and he
grasped my hand warmly, “you have to make your
choice.. On the one hand, a copyist’s career sud-
d2aly terminated by incarceration; on the other,
wherever it may be, as the poet says, ‘fresh fields
and pastures new ’—a perfect description of a spot
most propitious to the exercise of your talents,
where there is plenty of verdure about, and where
a young fellow like yourself can be up and dong.”
Here a noise in the outer office attracting his atten-
tion, he broke off suddenly in his discourse, motioned

me to silence, and stepping stealthily to the wall he
44 The Real Anbentures

showed me a small hole bored in it, through which
aperture he could command whatever was going on
in the outer office, at the same time indicating to
me a similar one to which, as I understood from
him, Iwas at once to apply my eye. This is what I
saw, and what I presume my dear father did too.

Two men, one with a red waistcoat, from which
sign of authority I gathered that he was either a
beadle or a Bow Street Runner, and the other in a
shabby suit, stood before the counter engaged in
conversation with our youngest and, temporarily,
our only clerk, the others having obtained leave of
absence for the eve of St. Swithin’s Day (a festival
that my excellent father always made a point of
religiously observing—over his table being in-
scribed St. Swithin’s admirable maxim about
“providing for a rainy day ”)—and evidently much
puzzled by the youth’s answers.

“No he ain’t in now, an’ he ain’t likely to be,”
says Simon, who had the simplest way with him,
“Cas he’s gone to Mr. Bogus’s ’ouse by coach, and
won’t be back till to-morrow mornin,’ an’ as ’m

the only clerk left ’ere, and I think you're up to no
of Robinson Crusoe, 45



good, I’ll just let out Speaker, who'll give you a bit
of his mind, before I call a constable.” With
which he jumps down from his perch, and before
they could say “ Jack Robinson!” which name was
indeed on their lips, the faithful fellow looses a
bull-dog hitherto kept for precaution’s sake in
these troublous times, in a basket under the
counter, and Sfeaker, for such was the animal’s
name, “spying strangers in the house,’—which I
have since learned is a parliamentary expression,—
without more ado made for the nearest pair of
calves, and would have forced their owner to pay
for his rash intrusion, had not the greencoated red-
vested man fled precipitately. Honest Simon
called the dog back, barred the door, and my father
on coming out from the private room was com-
mencing with tears of joyful pride, and a flow of
eloquence I have rarely heard surpassed,—he was
a master of these two streams, which he could turn
on at pleasure, so that at any moment he was
able to secure a flood of tears and a flow of elo-
quence, nay, even to pour out a torrent of invective,

—I say, he was about to employ these mighty
46 Che Real Adbentures



forces in order to express his high commendation
of the lad’s praiseworthy conduct, when Simon,
standing at some little distance from us (my father
being within a few paces of the door-mat, and my-
self just within the doorway,) and still holding
Speaker by a stout chain, cut short my father’s pero-
ration, somewhat rudely, with the brief exclamation,

““O stow that gammon!”

As a scholar, I have since read of the surprise of
Epaminondas at finding the mouse in his helmet ;
of the startled look of Leonidas the bravest of the
brave, on observing the suddenly rebellious attitude
of Kokasnukos ; I have pictured to myself the wrath
‘of Poluphoisboio on being answered by his hitherto
gentle partner Molasses; the indignation ex-
pressed on the face of Socrates when the drachma
was returned to him as being of doubtful value;
but, putting all these and many other historical and
classical instances together, and combining their
forces, they could not approach in sublimity to the
expression of suppressed painful emotion that
passed across my father’s features at this inexcus-

able rudeness on the part of his Arotég¢, Simon.
of Robinson Crusoe. 47



My father drew from his breast-pocket a hand-
kerchief, exclaiming, as he raised it to his eyes,

“The viper that I have cherished in my bosom.”

“JT daresay it is,” said Simon, “ it looks as if it
wouldn’t be the wuss for awash. What do I mean?”
he asked in reply to my father. ‘Why I mean that
’ere wiper as you're a moppin’ yer heyes with and
as you was a talking about chirruping in your
buzzum.”

' My father intimated gently that he would speak
with him in private.

“No, sir,’ replies Simon, in a decided tone,
<“wot you've got to say will be said in the presence
©’ Speaker, which he knows me as feeds him, and
don’t know yow. So you just ’and over coin afore
the ’ole biz’ness busts up, or blessed if I don’t fetch
the constables. I’ve been a doop long enough.
Ah! would jer?”

This last adjuration was addressed either to my
father or Speaker who was nobly struggling to be
free.

“«Doop,’ as you call it, or not,’ observed my

father cheerfully, “here is five pounds for you,” and
48 The Real Adbhentures



he held out a crisp looking “flimsy,” such being, as
I believe, the technical term in his trade. ‘‘I think,”
he added playfully, ‘‘ you'll soon change your note.”

«« And where should J be if I did?” asked the lad
with a hideously cunning leer. ‘No, no; you go
and change your own notes for yourself, and give
me the ready-rhino.”

“How much?” asked my father, who was a
thoroughly business-like man.

“Two suv rins down,” says Simon, “ and I tieup
the dawg.”

My father readily produced the two gold pieces,
and stretching across to the counter, placed them
there, the dog dancing and jumping as if he were
straining the last link of his chain, which Simon
shortened with one hand, in order to allow of his.
reaching over to the counter, whence he took the
sovereigns and put them in his pocket.

“Now,” says Simon, “I shall tie up Speaker and
bolt. You can fasten the door after me, if you can
get past Speaker, and no one’s a bit likely to try to
get in as long as he’s there. And the last piece of
advice as I gives to both of you two, Robbing
of Robinson Crusoe. 49

father and.Robbing-son Crusoe, is just this. ...
‘Step wt? 1”

With which he made for the front door, the dog
getting to the length of his chain, in a vain attempt
at following his youthful friend.

But as there is many a slip ’twixt cup and lip, so
are there just as many on a rough floor over a door-
mat. And here was an instance in point. Down
went Simon, sprawling. Speaker ran up to him,
thrust his nozzle under his ear, and exhibited
signs of the utmost distress. The poor boy but
now so gay and festive, lay stunned in a swoon,
having fallen against the iron threshold. My
father was just commencing a discourse on the
vanity of the best intentions, when, fearful lest the
dog should do the lad any injury, I slipped dexter-
ously behind the counter, and drew the dog’s chain
sharply through the iron ring in the floor to which
it was fastened. Speaker resisted, but my strength
was too much for him, and in spite of his strug-
gles, for it never occurred to the obstinate brute to
run at me, I close-hauled him, as the sailors say,
up to the ring, and fastened the other end of the

chain to the bars of the grate.
E
50 The Real Anbentures



It now occurred to me that the strong smelling
stuff which I had procured an hour or so ago as a
remedy for toothache, might restore the unconscious
youth, and sprinkling a few drops on my handker-
chief, I applied it to his nostrils without, however,
its having any other apparent effect than that of
rendering his trance the sounder. It became impossi-
ble to wake him. Turning to ask my father’s advice,
I could not see him anywhere, and then it broke
upon me that for the last few minutes, while my
hands had been full, his must have been full also,
as the only cash-drawer in the place was open and not
a single sixpence was vestble. My excellent-parent

was nowhere to be seen!



Close-hau’ed.
of Robtnson Crusoe, 51



CHAPTER VI.

A NEW DEPARTURE.



=

seh

2 U .

SS
Ss

Speaker set free.

NSTEAD of delivering
myself up to useless
grief at my father’s dis-
appearance, I removed
the chain from the grate,
kept it tightly in my
hand until I reached
the door of our private
room, when I-let it run
out, for I detest cruelty
to animals. Speaker
was free to welcome his
prostrate companion on
his showing any signs
of returning animation,

or to fly at any in-

truder who, 1 was sure, would not venture to

E 2
52 - The Real Anbentures



enter the premises on the chance of encounter-
ing so formidable a guardian. Gathering toge-
ther several parcels of new clothes and haber- —
dashery, a valise ready packed with somebody
else’s name on it (it was that of my young friend
Adolphus Jones who had confided it to my care
during our last visit to London together) and
some small savings which had been intrusted to
me by friends for investment,—and I have always
tried to prefer my friends’ interest to my own,—I
opened the secret door and passed out into the street
unperceived by a single soul. My luggage was
somewhat of a burden to me, for it must be
borne in mind that I had passed my days in com- ,
parative luxury, and though a stalwart young
fellow enough among others of inferior size and
weight, I had never been compelled to perform any
such menial office as that on which I was now
engaged for my own benefit. It grieved me that.I
should not have a few parting words with my father,
but after all, as we had had plenty of words together
already, and parting or meeting would not add

much to their force, this was mere sentiment, but,
of Robinson Crusoe. 5a



sentiment, I admit, has always been the weak side
of my character; and so, walking down to the quay
at early dawn, I was fortunate enough to find a
Levantine brig on the point of departure.

At that very moment the captain, with whom I
had some weeks before, as it chanced, contracted
amicable relations,—I playfully styling him the
“Captain of my acquaintance-ship, ’—was taking a
loving farewell of, as I conceived her to be, his wife, a
remarkably pretty and attractive young woman
whom, asI was sorry to learn, he was compelled by
the rules of his particular service to leave behind him
at Hull every time he departed on a cruise which
might be, as the poet has beautifully expressed it,
“for years, or it might be for ever,’—a rather
lengthy period for a young woman to be left quite
alone. Whether she would have been Je/t quite alone

“was a question I might have stopped to consider had
not my immediate business with the Captain been
to propose myself as a passenger for the Levantine
Islands, a beautiful climate as I had been informed ;
whereupon the Captain, thoroughly overcome by

his feelings, which found their expression in sobs,
54 The Real Adbentures



sighs, vows, protestations of fidelity, and violent
huggings and squeezings, protested that he was
only too glad to take a friend with him to cheer
him on the voyage, and so saying he ran down
the companion-ladder to bid the purser prepare a
cabin for me at once.

«“ Anexcellent man, your Captain!’ I exclaimed,
addressing the disconsolate young woman who was
vainly attempting to stem the torrent of her tears.

“Ah me!” she sighed, ‘what shall I do with-
out him! O, Sir, when you visit other climes,
watch over him, for my sake!”

“JT will,” I replied sincerely, for the sight of an
unprotected female always excites my compassion,
especially when she is in distress. “I will, I
swear! for your sake, my sweet angel!” and I took
her hand and pressed it respectfully to my lips.
Who would not have done the same in my position?

She felt she could confide in me. A woman’s
instinct in these matters is so true. She knew the
instant we met that her interests were, so to speak,

mine, and that as I drew her towards me, treating

her asI might have done a sister,—not my own, for
of Robinson Crusoe; 55



alas, I never had one, but as some one else’s sister, —
and looking down on her trustful upturned eyes, I
was about to assure her that my friendship towards.
her was no mere lip-service, when she drew away
from me somewhat quickly, murmuring as far as
my ear caught the words, “Take care,”...and
“Captain,” from which I concluded, on seeing the
skipper returning across the gangway, that she
was only re-iterating her adjuration to me to guard
and keep watch over her husband,—a task I had
already undertaken to perform.

We were standing behind one of the huge stone
pillars on the quay, so that the Captain did not at
once catch sight of us, but in another second, hailing
us heartily, he bade me come aboard at once, as
the bell was ringing and he had to set sail by
4 a.m., or he would be mulcted by his employers
in the sum of some hundreds of pounds. Whether
he was deceiving me or not in this statement
the reader will decide, if it be worth his while,
later on. Only if I were deceived at the out-set,
was I to blame if I retaliated at the finish ?

Anxious that he should not suffer on my account,
56 Che Real Adventures



I waited while he gave his wife a hearty smack, and
pushing him gently before me I told him to go first
as being a Captain by rank, I must follow only as a
humble land-lubbery sort of swab, and taking the
opportunity of pressing into the young woman’s
hand a short note [which I had had just time to
scribble with a copying pencil, that writes like ink,
on a leaf out of my note-book, | I uttered softly in
her ear a few words of consolation, saying that I
would write privately and give her news of the
Captain if she would furnish me with her address,
which in a timid hesitating way she whispered in
my ear to me by way of response.

The darkness of night was gradually dissolving
itself into a murky daybreak as the good ship
Crazy Fane set all sail and stood out for her course
due West. It was dark as I entered my cabin and
deposited my modest valise [with the name of
Ado!phus Jones on it], which I was taking with me
as a souvenir of the dear friend to whom it belonged,
of whom I should think as often as I cast my eyes
on his silver mounted brushes and other articles of

the toilet, and whom I might never see again on
of Robinson Crusoe. 57

this earth; and when in my comfortable berth I
stretched myself out, attired in a set of dear old
Dolly’s pyjamas, which suited me perfectly as
we were of the same height and build, and indeed
of much the same age, I began to meditate on the
strange series of events that had separated parent
from child, husband from wife, half-brother from
half-brother, friend from friend, and had brought
me to this situation, where, lying on my back,
drowsily dreaming, I just opened my eyes to see
through the port-hole the sun breaking forth
majestically from the murky atmosphere, gradually
developing a flaming brilliancy that gave warmth
and light all around,-and more than this, Hope!
For I am as most men are, if they will have the
honesty to own it, a trifle superstitious, and I hailed
the appearance of this glorious sun as a thrice
happyomen. Yes! good luck had smiled on me at
starting, for was it not a fortunate chance that
Adolphus Jones had left his well-stored valise with
me while he had gone to call on some friends? and
would he not be delighted to know of what service it

had been to his fond companion Robinson? I now
58 The Real Anbhentures





resumed a custom of mine of keeping an occasional
diary. I lately found some of its pages which have
assisted my memory in compiling these reminis-
cences. Here is the note on this occasion, ‘ Polly
Newport, Queer Street, Hull,’ and a memorandum
of my own letter to her which ran thus :—Deares?,
zt ts love at first stght. When you are free I wilt
marry you. Thereto I plight you my troth and
honor. Thine ever, J. ROBINSON CRUSOE.”



Polly.”
of Robinson

Crusoe, 59



INTERMEZZO.

[A parenthesis between Chapters VI. and VII. containing
passing observations on the plan and scope of the work, and
impressing on the casual reader the conviction of tts
veracity. |



A tearful object.

Y

readers will understand
how overcome with an-
guish I must feel when
presenting them with this
narrative, which goes far
to contradict their earliest
impressions of the extra-
ordinary probity of Robin-
son senior and the way-
wardness of his son. Vice,
when exhibited in its
sordid repulsiveness, can
never so attract the million
as will the fair show of

virtue. But Truth is above

every other consideration, and if by my silence I
60 The Real Adventures



should have assisted in strengthening and confirm-
ing the reputation gained by the writer whom I
may now style “the Other Robinson,’ I should
never cease to blame my own false and unworthy
reticence. JI am now coming to that portion of my
career from which the mists of romance must be
dispelled by the blaze of genuine verity. After
referring to my diaries made at the moment and
on the spot, I had a mind to print the truth and
falsehood in parallel columns, after the fashion
adopted by ‘the Other Robinson,’* when he
particularly wished to catch serious persons by
self-advertisement of his own remarkable piety.
But now that I am what then I only wished to make
the world believe I was, I feel I may honestly
declare, and without shame, what I really was.
For there are so many extenuating circumstances
and motives are so mixed that I am sure a dis-
passionate jury of my experienced countrymen and

fellow citizens will bring me in guilty of no greater

* Tt must be borne in mind that ‘THE FAtsE RoBINson” was
written as the true Robinson Crusve so frequently tells us, “* under com-
pulsion,” so that he would be sufficiently justified in alluding to his own
writing as the work of another hand.—Ep.
of Robingon Crusoe. 61

crime than that of yielding to temptations which
few could have resisted and of trying to appear
virtuous out of sheer admiration for noble qualities
which I almost despaired of ever possessing. In
writing that work I yielded to the desire of obtain-
ing a good reputation, the social value of which
had been impressed upon me by one whom I might
style the Imperious Dictator. End of Lntermeszzo.

I resume.



The Other Robinson.
62 Che Real Adbentures



CHAPTER VIL.
ON BOARD.

AWAKING I began

to consider that I



was not provided,
as I could have
wished, for a sea-
voyage, having, in-
deed, only four com-
plete sets of towis
clothes, made in the
latest fashion, with
stockings, shoes,

Awaking ! and buckles to
match, besides a gold-headed cane,—such as was
the mode among young ‘ Beaux” of that time,—
with my watch, seals, other jewellery, and diamond
snuff-box, for none of which things, I regret to

say, have I to this day seen any tradesman’s
of Robinson Crusoe. 63



account. If after this lapse of years they can
prove beyond question the legitimacy of their claims
I shall willingly discharge them. No one living
shall be honestly able to say that Robinson Crusoe
owes him a single penny to which he may be legally
entitled. However, as far as these worthy people
were concerned, if they had to wait some little time
for their money, it would only be as though they
had invested in a speculation which would not
immediately produce such profits as they had been
accustomed to realise; for I have since learnt that
these tailors, shoemakers, haberdashers, and such
like, are in the habit of paying ridiculously small
wages to poor hard-working souls who must take
what they can get. or starve, while for these very
goods they charge their customers at the rate ot
eighty per cent. interest, and then, forsooth, make
a merit of deducting five or even ten per cent. for
ready cash!

As I regarded my brand-new things, there was
some consolation in the thought that I, at all
events, was not contributing one farthing towards

this infamous traffic. Still it was a matter of some
64 The Real Adbentures



regret that Lhad not ordered a nautical costume with
waterproofs to match, which I should have done
in London if, when visiting the metropolis, I had
had the slightest idea of the necessity that was
about to arise. However, I determined to rectify
the omission on the first opportunity, when we
should put into some port, where there might be a
town with some good tradesmen in it. So thinking,
I tumbled out of my berth, and, thanking my lucky
stars for the tranquillity of the sea, I set myself
straightway to dress, a task that, with the assist-
ance of the steward, or whatever he was,—for I am
ignorant in such matters,—I managed to accomplish
without much difficulty. It is true that twice or
thrice the vessel gave a sort of lurch, which, on one
occasion, threw me on my back into my large
canvas bag, and, on another, sent all poor dear
Adolphus’s silver pomatum pots, scent bottles, hair-
brushes, combs, flying about in every direction.
The worst thing that happened was the upset of a
bottle of boot-polish over my best cambric shirts,
which annoyed me so greatly that I did not go to

breakfast at the Captain’s table in the sweetest
“of Robinson Crusoe. 65



possible humour. It is this sort of thing that
unhinges great minds: a stupendous crisis in-
volving utter ruin would not affect a man of genius
so deeply as the’ splitting of 4 “pair of new white
gloves just as he was entering: a drawing room, or
the snapping in twain of the same Genius’ shoe-tie

while he was fashionably promenading.



New White Gloves.
66 The Real Anbentures



CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAPTAIN’S WILL.



The Skipper.

IIE captain of Zhe

Crazy Fane was a
fairly honest fellow,
though, consider-
ing his capacity for
taking a quantity,
rather too fond of
the bottle, that is
when there was
anything in it worth
drinking ; though I
am bound to say
that for the bottle
itself, as a bottle,

he cared little or

nothing, often flinging one at the head of the

cabin-boy or second-mate, or throwing it out to
of Robinson Crusoe: 67



sea in order to amuse himself by taking a pot-shot
at it with a fowling-piece. On these occasions I
might have made a lot of money, as he invariably
backed himself at odds to hit the neck of the
bottle, which he only succeeded in doing once
in fifty times. However, I was satisfied by in-
sisting on his limiting his wagers to crowns
instead of sovereigns, as by this he could enjoy
double the amount of sport for precisely the same
sum.

The skipper confided all his family matters
to me,—and that such matters were extensive and
various may be surmised from what I shall have to
say later on, if] am permitted to finish these con-
fessions, in which I begin to recognise the task of
my life,—I say the skipper confided in me, asking
my advice, which I gave him willingly, only re-
gretting that I had not complied with my father’s
request to qualify myself as a solicitor, as then I
should have been able to make the usual legitimate
charge of six shillings and eightpence for every
opinion with which, whether in writing or verbally, I
might favour my client. It suddenly occurred to me

F 2
68 The: Real ADbhentures



that I had seen a licence to practisé engrossed on a
parchment,'so I was’able to draw one upon plain
paper from memory, and to affix to it ‘a large
official seal,—it was the seal of our Company,
Robinson, Bogus & Co. This I presented to the
captain as my solicitor’s. diploma, who thenceforth
treated me with extraordinary respect, seldom
asking me for more than one piece of advice per
diem, for which he paid down ready money. Be it
clearly understood that I do not hold up my conduct
as a model for general imitation. I am simply
stating facts.

“My friend,’ I said to him one day, “a sailor's.
life is hazardous. You have a wife at home?”

He nodded, and a silent tear in his eye spoke
volumes.

“Your wife is unprovided for,” I continued. ‘ So-
are your children.”

Again he nodded, and another silent tear wetted
the other eye and spoke more volumes. I presumed
he had children, or why should he be thus affected.
at my mention of them?

“‘Let me recommend you,” I said, “while you
Of Robison. Crusoe. 69



-.are -hale and hearty, to; dispose’ of your ‘real
and personal property. In short—if you ask my
advice—”

“JT do,” he replied, at once handing over six and
eightpence, for which, being always scrupulous in
such matters, I forthwith gave him a receipt.

“Then,” I resumed solemnly, “my advice is,
‘Make your will while the ship rolls.’”

“Make it three bells,’ he exclaimed heartily ;
“pipe all hands to grog, serve out the pens, ink
and paper, and Will it is!”

We descended to the captain’s cabin, and having,
as he expressed it, ‘formed a Jorum,’ we sat down
to the work; he dictating, I writing.

Now though I took great care in drawing out
this document and interlarding it with ‘ Afore-
saids,” ‘‘ Whereases,” ‘The said So-and-so on the
one part,” and so forth, repeating these phrases as
often as possible so as to cover some dozen sheets of
paper for which he insisted on paying me so much ger
folio, yet the entire document came to no more, as
far as its meaning went, than this, “‘Z deave to Polly

Newport all my property whatever and wherever wt may
70 The Real Adbentures



be.’ Ladvised him to call her by her maiden name
as well as by her title as his wife, and he willingly
adopted my suggestion. We had a pleasant night
of it, and I felt sure I had induced him to do the
right thing.



Making the Captain's Will.
of Robinson Crusoe. 71



CHAPTER bX

THE REAL CRUISE O.

- E were delayed by
fF stress of weather

for some days, but at




ARS

length were enabled to

ROMO Ps

oN QA

put into a fine port on
the south-east coast of
Spain, a country cele-
brated for its chateaux
(of which I sub-
sequently purchased
several), for its ches-
SSs.2 nuts, onions, and liquo-
rice, and for its hand-

some women, whose

A Spanish belle.

charms our versatile

Captain was never tired of toasting, though as I
72" Ghe Meal ApGentures:



told him, I thought toasting was somewhat super-
fluous in so warm a climate.

During our voyage I had contrived to ingrati-
ate myself not only with the Captain (who taught
me all I know of navigation and much more which
I have forgotten), but also with the first mate and
the sailors down to the very smallest cabin-boy,
any one of whom would have jumped into the
water to serve me, a feat of no ordinary danger
seeing that not a single man-Jack of them could
swim a stroke. This ignorance of a most essential
accomplishment has always struck me as strange
in sea-faring men. But so it is. To those who are
born to be hanged, the hours spent in acquiring the
art of swimming would be so much wasted time.
For my part, I had been taught to swim when I
was six years old, and at seven I could dive to the
bottom of the deepest river in England and fetch
up chalk eggs. Many of my rivals in this exercise
used craftily to conceal the eggs in their hands
or in ‘their belt; but though I was frequently the
means of detecting this disingenuous conduct, I for

my-part.‘was.never once suspected, and without’
of :Rob{isow Crusoe, 73



a blush/I .maiy confidently: assert! thati:I never
once carried: a chalk egg: in my: hand or in my
belt; I mention this merely: to’ show: what sort
of man the Real Robinson always has been,
and not for the sake of reviving: an old and ‘useless
controversy. My readers must take the good’ with
the bad in these confessions, and if I honestly tell
them that I was neither all good nor all bad, I
do expect them to accept me at the valuation
which every virtuous citizen must put on candour
and plain speaking. ‘Enough of, this. As the
French say “assez,’—and I think the word as
pronounced very appropriate to a self-laudatory
idiot.

Our Captain, Jonathan Brown, was a gay dog, a
gay Lothario as the phrase is. It grieves me to
think of the lovely young creature Polly, to
whom he had bequeathed everything, and whom,
on a plea which had never entirely satisfied my
mind, he had left behind him in England. Yet,
it was difficult for me to refer to this delicate
subject. And delicate I’m afraid she was, poor

thing, needing: the tenderest care: The Captain
74 The Real Adoentures



might have brought her with him. Why he.
did not I understood as we proceeded on our
voyage. I pity a man with the Lotharian tempera-

ment. Was Polly Newport Mrs. Jonathan Brown or
, not? Over our grog and pipes at night the Captain
would sing me amatory ditties while I would
confine myself to those of a jovial complexion,
with which indeed I was better acquainted.

This was a song of which he was mightily fond.

THE CAPTAIN’S SONG.

The life of a sailor is ever jolly,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho !
He loves his dear Nancy, his Lucy, his Polly,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
His heart is as large
As a Newcastle barge,
And there’s room for full three times a score,
If a dozen go out
He just puts about
And ships a fresh dozen or more,
My boys,
Yeo ho! a fresh dozen or more !

On .some very fine evenings, we would. sit on

the deck, ‘and the sailors after piping all hands to
of Robinson Crusoe. 75

grog, would join in the chorus in a manner which,
for harmony and heartiness, I have never known
equalled by the greatest professional singers.
They were uncommonly fond of this liquor, and the
extra supply which was invariably granted them at
my request gave a joviality to our carouses that
many an Imperial roysterer might have envied.
The following was the remainder of the Captain’s

ditty

I married a wife in Timbuctoo,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
I promised I would be ever true,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
“ Unchanged I shall be
When to you from the sea
I return as I hope I shall do!”
Round the world I ranged
And I was unchanged
On returning to Timbuctoo,
My boys,
On returning to Timbuctoo.

I married a wife in Halifax,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
A sailor has only got to ax,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho:!
“You'll think of me still
-- When you're sailing!” “1 will,”
76

The Real Avbhentutes



Says I, and,1:did on.all tacks, aoa
_ Tl think of her ever,
* But bless her,—I’ll never
Go back to that Halifax,
: My boys,
Yeo ho! back to Halifax,

I married a wife in the South of France,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
A sailor should never refuse a chance,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho !
“Be my mate,” says she,
And I answers “ wee”
As you do when you parleyvoo.
She cries, “Don’t forget
Your little Jeanette.”
And I don’t,—as is plain to you,
My lads!
Yeo ho! ain’t it plain to you?

T would take me from now till the gay dog-watch,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
To sing of them all, Dutch, Indian, Scotch,
Yeo ho, my lads, yeo ho!
So shout ha! ha!
For the Honest Tar
Whose heart is as big as the sea.
Of girls and of fishes
He hooks what he wishes
And he’s true as a Tar:can be,
i, «Brave boys !
Yeo ho! true.as Tar canbe !!
of: “Robinson Crusoe, 77



““Them’s my sentiments,” said the Captain, toss-
ing off a bumper, while the crew, their glasses being
emptied, observed an ominous silence. Could I
respect such a man? Could I but pity the girl
whose fate and fortune (he confided to me that she
had a pretty good sum safely invested) were in his
hands ? However, there was no help for it at present.
I foresaw that such conduct as this could not go
unpunished. But was J to be the minister of
vengeance or not? That was the question. The
answer was to be given, and sooner than I
had expected.

“A song! a song!” cried the crew after they
had been served with additional grog at my re
quest.

“A ditty!” cries Captain Jonathan Brown. “I
call on our visitor for a ditty.”

“T says ‘ditty’ to the Captain,’ I rejoined
humorously, and when the roar of laughter which
this sally caused had subsided, I gave them the
following bacchanalian song. Words and music

my own composition.
78 The Real Adbentures



-ROBINSON’S SONG.

You may boast of fine ladies
In England or Cadiz,
I won’t interrupt or pooh-pooh—so—
But the man I will throttle
Who won’t pass the bottle,
And so I advise you to do so.
You'll do so at once to young Crusoe,
You will—I am sure you will do so,
So give me what’s handy,
The gin, rum, or brandy,
By Jove ’tis all one to young Crusoe!

Chorus. (While they pass the liquor and drink):

We'll do so at once, my dear Crusoe,
Politely we couldn’t refuse, so

We'll pass round the brandy

Or anything handy
And drink to our Robinson Crusoe.

Then I sang the second verse:

You may talk of your treasures,
Your leisures and pleasures,
Of jewels, and brides with a troussea,
But give me Old Port O,
The genuine sort O,
Says jovial Robinson Crusoe.
But would I Madeira refuse O ?
Iam not that kindof recluse O !
Than all others quicker
Pll swallow the liquor,
Says jolly young Robinson Crusce
of Robinson Crusoe, 79



Chorus as before, until the Captain was under
hatches, and great progress had been made in our
voyage by all the crew being half-seas over. It
was now that I first got rid of the nickname which
had stuck to me on shore, and instead of being any
longer Robbingson Crew-so I re-spelt and adapted
the name, putting it into verse form so as to be
better remembered in case evidence of the fact
should: be required at some future time. It was a
wise man who said “ Let who will make the laws,
Ill write the songs.” And here is the extra verse

which they got by heart and sang with fervour :—

No matter what weather,
We're jolly together

And jolly we’ve been, though it blew so,
This Cruise—you may bet it ;
We'll never forget it—

We called it our Robinson Cruise, O!

| ‘The very first Robinson Cruise, O!
I wish we could get three or two so,
Put this to your lip, mate,
And drink to our ship-mate,
Our jolly Jack Robinson Cruise-O !

It was easy after this to say, that not wishing to
8 The Real Adoeritures



be egotistical, 'I would-omit the “i” from the: name,
or to give any other facetious reason as might suit
the company in which I might chancé to find:myself.

But to return to my voyage, the most memorable

aia

¢criiise o’ Crusoe.



voll Jack Robinson.
of Robinson

Crusoe, 81

CHAPTER X.

SARA GOSSA.




A Whispered Confidence.

Si
Hi py
M



\ AN Dp
y a

1s

TIE Captain now

confided to me that
his was no trader in
the ordinary sense,
butavessel engaged
in carrying goods
from one country to
another, and dis-

posing of them free

> of all customary in-

~ spection.

“So,” said I, de-

liberately, ‘(in plain

language, you are a smuggler.”
“Just that,” he replied, nodding pleasantly,
“and as I’ve taken a liking to you, I am ready

to offer you a share in such transactions as I am

carrying out for my own benefit as well as for

that of a private company.”

G
82 The Real Anbentures



“How can I serve you?” I cautiously inquired.

“You will impersonate a rich English merchant.
You can write a neat hand, several neat hands,” he
added slyly, and I own to having blushed at hear-
ing his praises as he continued, “and are nota bad
copyist, eh?”

I answered that I had some slight talent in that
direction.

“Good ;”’ he returned, ‘then at the next port
we put into we will take stores on board to the
amount of several thousand pounds, which you
shall pay for with bills of exchange, signed by
the London firm of Walker, Martin, and Co.
See?”

I replied that I perceived his drift, and added
that in my opinion, as ‘‘ exchange was no robbery,”
so bills of exchange must be included in a com-
mercial proverb which was respected in all
countries. And after all the value of the circu-
lating medium is quite arbitrary.

He had other plans, andI entered into them with
all the energy of youth and the eagerness of
gratitude. For had not the Captain been of service

to me when I could obtain no other aid, and was I.
of Robinson Crusoe. 83



to forget this? No. Perish the thought! and
though I own my conscience was not altogether at
ease as to the kind of business in which my friend
was interested, yet was it a part of my duty to
inquire into the honesty of his purpose, or to repay
his trust with an ungenerous suspicion? He had
owned to the name of “Smuggler”! But the zame is
not the ¢kzg, and there is a vast difference between
an honest smuggler and a dishonest one. Besides,
who was I that I should become prosecutor, judge
and jury, and convict a man on his own unguarded
confession ?

At the next port—(and here I may say that the
names and dates given in the history of the Other
Robinson are so inaccurate as to be only remotely
founded on fact)—at the next port, the name of
which was Azuvero Sumtymagoa, the Captain re-~
quested me to see to everything, while he went
ashore “on” what he called “business.” No
sooner did our ship come alongside the quay, than
a dark brunette in Spanish dress playing the casta-
nets stood at one end of the gangway, and, no sooner
our luckless Captain, who had evidently quite for-

GFZ.
84 Che Real Anbentures



gotten her existence and had other plans in his
head, set eyes on her, than he staggered as if he
had been shot, and, muttering with an oath, “ Sara
Gossa here! Confound my geography!” he tried
to descend ths companion unobserved, but, to put
it pleasantly, the female companion was too quick
for him.

“Enriquez!” she called out, and at the same
time a black-bearded ill-looking ruffan with a
naked stiletto in his girdle whispered something to
her which I could see by his gestures was, ‘“ Shall
I go for him ?”

She inclined her head, and in another moment
the stiletto gleamed in the air like a flash of vivid
lightning, the man was among us, on deck, and I
was showing him, as politely as possible, for Iam not
partial to naked stilettos, into the Captain’s cabin.

“Avast! messmate! tip us your fin!” cried
our skipper, addressing the foreign visitor with
forced geniality, all the while looking as pale as
a turnip. Then the two men carried on a conver-
sation in a language which I did not comprehend,

but the purport of which it was not difficult to
po





SSSR
3 = > S SS
<= SSS all





i
a
n
WASH

———

=
=
=

\ ce aU
. ca |
y SS]
j ;
HH ;
IRS iB
Jah |
=

|
A
ill || %
AU



“Two to One.”
of Robinson Crusoe. 85



understand, seeing that it ended by the Captain
opening a secret locker and putting a consider-
able amount of money in his pocket in coins
which in those parts they call ‘‘ reals,” for which
I offered at once to substitute notes and some
gold and silver with the English stamp on
them,—a currency valuable everywhere. The
Captain appreciated my consideration, and seeing
that he was going away in company with so sus-
picious a character, it was far better to replace the
‘reals ” by my paper and coin, which we may call
the ‘‘shams,” and which if not equal in value to
the pieces they represented, yet, as being of great
artistic merit, and becoming more and more rare
every day, would, in time, be worth double their
fictitious value to any collector of strange coins.

So the Captain took the “shams” and left the
“reals” in my possession, and after bidding
myself and the crew good-bye, and telling us to
be ready to start early in the morning of the
day after to-morrow, he went off with his male and
female companion, and the three were soon lost to

sight in the bustle and turmoil of the busy town.
86 The Real Adventures

CHAPTER XI.

A BUSINESS DINNER.



Taking in Supplies.

AT once executed the

Captain’s commissions,
received all the goods,
merchandise, powder,
diamonds, supplies of
wine and food. Ikept the
men at work throughout
the night, for our manner
of lading required secrecy
and dispatch, and the
next morning the clerks
from the various houses
came down to the ship

to be paid.

Being in a monstrous good humour, I signalled

to the clerks an appointment at the best Marinero
of Robtnson Crusoe. 87



Ostello in the town, where the mate, the crew and
myself met them. Here was provided, at my
expense, as fine a breakfast (they breakfast in
this part of the world about midday, so to us it was
a lunch or dinner) as these worthy counter-jumpers
and office-stool polishers had ever imagined in
their wildest nightmares. As for my men, they
were ready for what the Germans call a “ Mzinchen
mit swizzletrinken,’ and seeing they had all the
day before them, they were prepared to go at it
with a will.

One thing I must here mention, though I did
not recall it to my memory until some time after-
wards. On quitting the ship the Captain had
asked me to lend him my watch, as he had care-
fully locked up his (a gold repeater striking all
the hours and so forth) ina drawer. I had given
him mine, but had quite forgotten to inform him
that unless carefully regulated by an experienced
hand twice a day, it was in the habit of losing
fifteen minutes in every hour. Well—to make a
long story short—the clerks were paid, had pocketed

their money, and we all sat down to carouse, Don
88 Che Real Adbentures



Guzzlero, the head clerk of the chief firm, facing
me in the wztzoso sedillo or “vice chair.” There
were only three and a half of our crew absent, one
of them being an old sailor, whom we had taken
abroad at some port or other on the way, and who
was now suffering from toothache. The other two
absentees were ordinary able seamen, and the half
was a bright, cheery little cabin-boy. These had
remained on board, and were included in our toasts
as “Absent friends.”

The fact of the old sailor, whose name was men-
tioned to me as Will Atkins, suffering from tooth-
ache brought to my mind, for the first time since I
had quitted England, the memorable events which
had immediately preceded my departure. I remem-
bered my own toothache, and how the drug, which
Ihad purchased for its relief, I had subsequently
applied to the nose and mouth of the unconscious
Simon. Naturally enough it occurred to me that
once more I might relieve pain. So on my way to
the hostelrie chancing to see a chemist’s shop, I
went in, and asked—as best I could in pantomime,

and exhibiting a few pieces of the Captain’s money,
of Robison Crusoe, 89



—for some concoction which would induce repose
and allay suffering. In spite of my protestations and
attempts at explanation, they took all the money
I held out to them, and in exchange insisted upon
my Carrying away with me half-a-dozen pint bottles
of what I supposed to be some harmless pain-
alleviating drug; and to the quantity I made no
ovjection, foreseeing the use it might be to us dur-
ing the voyage. Unfortunately the stupid waiters
placed these bottles on the sideboard, where, I
regret to say, unnoticed by me, they were mixed
up with the bottles of wine. As far as I am con-
cerned, the cheery little cabin-boy had brought up
a private supply of the best liquor from the
Captain’s cupboard for my own drinking; and this
I kept secreted under my chair.

Now, whether the waiters continued to mistake
the drug for the wine, or whether my guests drank
a great deal more than was good for them, I have
never been able to exactly ascertain, but this I know
that by four o’clock they were all fast asleep; the
greater number of them under the table, some on

their chairs, and some on the floor. All the bottles
90 The Real Adbentures



of somniferous mixture had been emptied, the
waiters were snoring on the landing, and except for
these sounds there was not a sign of life in the
Ostello, at least not in the part we were occupying,
which was an Annexo, as they called it in that
country, detached from the main building.

Fearing lest any harm should come to the clerks,
I removed from their pockets all the money and
valuables they had about them, and having dis-
charged a portion of the bill, at the same time telling
the landlady that I was returning presently, as I had
intended to do, I walked down to the quay, and was
rowed in a small boat to our ship, which, after the
Captain’s departure, we had taken outside the
harbour, so as to be ready for sailing at the
shortest possible notice. We were a party of four
on board, exclusive of the youngster who had
supplied me from the Captain’s private cellar.
The old navigator, Will Atkins, had quite re-
covered from his severe attack of toothache,
whereat I was delighted, as of the remedy specially
purchased for him not a drop remained. I treated

them to grog, and we watched anxiously for the
of Robinson Crusoe. 9!



Captain’s return. The old sailor began to murmur.
Were they to waste all the time here? Where
were the others? Where was the Captain? And
here the two lads joined in, and the affair threat-
ened to take a serious turn. But I was equal to
the occasion.

I told them plainly that I was afraid Captain
Jonathan Brown had deserted, and that their
companions had done much the same, as they
had proved themselves a drunken set of sots
whom, if I remained at the station I must, or,
should he reappear, the Captain must, hand over
to the civil authorities, and every man Jack-Tar of
them would be shot or hung at the yard-arm. At
this the poor ignorant souls were sore afraid, and
going on their knees implored me to let them weigh
anchor and set sail for the next port, protesting
they would do far better without their Captain
and without their messmates, as the fewer they
were in number, the larger the shares would be of
any booty that might fall into their hands.

I now perceived that I had to deal with an un-

principled set, consisting of two men to set a bad
92 The Real Anbentures



example and a boy to follow it, but on the whole it
seemed better for everybody that I should act on
the impulse of the moment, which was to weigh

anchor and leave our besotted messmates to find the



Acting on Impulse.

Captain if they could. Our departure would save
the captain from bigamy, that is if he were already
married to Polly Newport, or trigamy or polygamy,
and he might make this Spanish lady a happy wife.
of Robinson Crusoe. 93



There was so much plausibility in all this reason-
ing that, though I cannot quite acquit myself of all
blame in yielding to the arguments advanced with
much force and earnestness by Will Atkins, who
appeared to be the spokesman of the party, yet,
taking into consideration my extreme youth, my
inexperience, and the strange circumstances of the
case, Iam inclined to think that few young men
of my age would have acted with my decision at
this critical moment. Nor am I certain that my
action was not overruled for the best, that is,
judging by results so far as I am acquainted with
them.
94 Che Real Adventures



INTERMEZZO.

SSS

oe
i
TAN

The Collaborator-in-chief.

Peers tenes fp.



MUST pause for a
minute or so in my
narrative to remind
myreaders that these
are confessions and
revelations. Those
o .whom the first
work* is familiar,
ought not to be sur-

prised at the recur-

eS rence herein of cer-

tain names which are
to be found in that
earlier and unvera-
cious story of my
life and adventures.

For be it remem-

* That is, what has hitherto been known as “The Life and

Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.’ —Ep.
of Robinson Crusoe, 95



bered, that as there is no smoke without fire, so
there is no romance but is built up on a foun-
dation of fact, and that good and true material
must be used in rearing an edifice intended
to present all the appearance of a solid work.
Tiction must possess an air of what our French
neighbours term “‘vrazsemblance’”’ or it would never
for one second deceive the cultured and the
wealthy classes. Everyone may then be satisfied
tnat Friday * and Will Atkins are genuine person-
ages. The complexion given to them in the
first story, including Friday’s, is another thing,
and my hand was not then free to declare the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
But glad am I now that I insisted on retaining
these names, as by comparing this account of
actual facts with the former one of imaginary
circumstances, the sympathy of the public, I
am sure, will be with the man who under pres-
sure (and this will be explained and disclosed
gradually) was compelled for the sake of gains in

which he himself only partially shared, to describe

* Friday has not yet appeared. Coming later.—Ep.
96 The Real Adbentures

scenes he had never witnessed, and a state of
things that had never had any real existence

except in the fertile imagination of the collabo-



rator-in-chief. This term does not mean myself,
as will be seen.

' I admit certain irregularities in my early life, but
who is not conscious of these? I have suffered for

these more than most persons, as will be seen
of Robinson Crusoe. 97



in this narrative, and indeed the majority,
as far as I can ascertain, never suffer at
all for what are enormities as compared with
my errors which resulted from faulty education,
defective moral training, bad-example, and the
circumstances in which a free and easy nature like
mine had been developed. In bearing my own
load, I must in justice place the laden pack-saddles
on the backs of the animals who ought to carry
them.

The reader will excuse these few words; but, if
generous, he will understand that they are spoken
in the frank and open spirit of one whose motto has
ever been Facere aut Fierd and “ Heaven defend the
right!”

End of Intermezzo the Second, and on we go

again.
98 The Real Adventures

CHAPTER XII.

ON SAIL OR RETURN?

Coes HE only sailor on



board this vessel
whom I could now
trust was theelderly
_ salt,” Will Atkins.
His boast was that
he had got round
the world in so
many years, but
that the world had

never, as yet, got

“Will Atkins.”

round hzm.

“‘Messmate,” he said to me, after the usual
respectful avasts and belays and_ allusions
to his dear eyes and so forth, wherewithal an

honest tar invariably prefaces his remarks.
of Robingon Crusoe. 99

“‘Messmate, I know the value of this here
cargo.”

“So do I,” was my reply,

“Avast there, messmate,” says Will Atkins,
“but this here cargo is contraband, and you'll
have a difficulty in disposing of it.”

“T do not think so,’ I observed.

“There you’re wrong,” returns Atkins, wink-
ing knowingly. ‘Whose ship’s this?”

“The ship is not mine, but I have captured it in
the name of the Government,” I explained; “ and
I shall get a handsome percentage ’’——here he
interrupted with a loud laugh.

“Blow percentages! Who are you, I should
like to know?’ I offered to inform him, but he
went on; ‘“ What’s more to the point is Who am
J? Vm William Atkins, A.B., M.D.”

“M.D.!” I exclaimed, ‘a Doctor!’

“* Doctor ahoy, and be jammed to it!’ he shouted.
““Wot’s ‘M.D.’? Why, shipmate, it’s ‘Marine
Detective’ !”’

“The Police!”

‘Police it is,” returned Atkins (the scoundrel);.

H 2

«
109 The Real Adbentures



quietly ; “and here’s my authority.” And with
this he produced a warrant. ‘ Now,” he went on,
“we've only two men and a boy on board, the
Captain and his crew are wherever they may be
by this time, and I command this prize. Aye or
no, eh, mate?”

I was so dumfounded that I could do no more
than whisper that it was as he pleased, and that, if
he were indeed a myrmidon of the Law, I was at
his disposal.

“Good. Your hand upon it.’ Whereupon he
shook my hand heartily, which I allowed him to do,
yet with some secret misgiving.

“T’ve had my eye on you,” Will Atkins went on.
“Tve watched you. You know your way about.
I’m open-handed. This is a considerable prize.
We'll share. Your hand.”

Again he shook my hand warmly. But to shake
a hand is not a formula meant to commit one to.
anything against one’s will.

“‘Say yes,” said he.

I said “yes” as he wished. But I am lawyer

enough to know that there are certain cases im
of Robinson Crusoe. IOI



which szlence gives consent, when speech doesn’t, and
this was one of them.

Thus at all events did I honestly become monarch
of half I surveyed, though Will Atkins was false
to his trust, and had no right to hand over to me
what he was there as caretaker to guard on behalf
of his employers.

“Now,” says he over our evening grog, “‘ we
must get rid of our remaining crew, and I’ll sail the
ship myself.”

Then he took a chart and showed me where
we were. But unfortunately not being accustomed
to this kind of study, I could not follow him as he
pointed out to me the line we were to take along
the paths of the sea, of which he declared every
step was as familiar to him as the streets of his
own native town.

«What town?” I inquired.

“Hull,” he answered, without taking his eye off
the spot where his finger was marking the deepest
soundings.

I confess I was taken aback. And nowI came

to think of it, I did not remember his having been
102 The Real Adventures



on board when I embarked. In fact, as I’ve already
hinted, I had not seen him until after we had left
some port where we had stopped a night to leave a
couple of our sailors that were invalids, in order to
take in a robust hand.

“« Ay, ay, messmate,” said he when I mentioned
this’: ‘Set down two and carry one.’ That was
me.’ And here he drained off his glass and re-
filled his pipe.

It occurred to me that if his warrant were authori-
tative, would it not be the more honest of me
to take it from him, hold the cargo as my own,
and make my own terms with the Government,
from a distance,—giving up this traitor, Will Atkins,
to justice as a first step, and then if I did not find a
representative of our Government at any port
where we might put in, I should be bound to realise
the cargo for my own benefit, and could give a fair
account of it should I ever be called upon to do so.

However, I said nothing, but in a general way,
and in a genial manner, agreed to every proposal
this double-faced villain made to me. Whether

““M.D.” or not, he was a sagacious old salt.
of Robinson Crusoe. 103



“J like you,” he said to me again, seizing me by
the hand and shaking it heartily—which he did on
an average every ten minutes—“ and I’ll show you
where the buried treasure lies that’s been in these
seas for a hundred years or more.”

‘“Indeed!’’ says I, ever ready to acquire know-
ledge, though I considered the “lie” of the
buried treasure came well from this inventive old
scoundrel.

“Take my glass,’ says he. I did, and emptied
it. ‘Avast there, messmate!’’ he exclaimed;
“‘which weren’t my meaning at all.” I begged his
pardon. I did not see that in his left hand he was
holding a telescope.

I took it and reconnoitred.

“D’you see a small island S. by S.S.W.?” he
asked.

“T do,” I answered, and oddly enough I did.

«‘That’s where the Spaniards buried two million
golden doubloons,” he said. ‘And when we've
put these men ashore we'll sail straight for that
spot and make our fortunes.” And once more he

clasped my hand and shook it warmiy. Then he
104 The Real Adbentures



finished his grog, rolled up his chart, and turned
in.

I went on deck. A lovely moonlight night. I
thought of Hull, of the Captain false to his wife, or
wives ; I thought of Nancy his widow—for was she
not such ?—and wished I were well back again,
when, on my word and honour, I would have
proposed to her.. But here we were thousands of
miles from anywhere like “England, home and
beauty,” as the song says, and only the man at the
wheel for a companion.

“What tack are we on?” I asked.

“N. by N.N.W.,” he answered.

“There’s an island out there” I.said, calmly,
pointing S. by S.S.W., “‘where millions of Spanish
doubloons are buried.”

The man’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. His
hand trembled. The wheel went round.

“What tack are we on now?’ I asked. There
was ill-repressed agitation in his voice as he
answered,

“S. by S.S.W.”

“Then make it so,’ I said, not knowing exactly
of Robinson Crusoe. 105



what I meant, for nautical phraseology has never
been my strong point.
“S. by S.S.W. it is. Ay, ay, sir,” he answered ;



Alone on Board.

and I heard him murmur “treasure” to himself
as I went below.

The next morning there was a grating sound
over the side. A boat was being lowered.

“ What is it?” I shouted out of the port-hole
106 Che Real Adbentures
‘which served me for a cabin window. ‘Man
overboard ?”

“Two men and a boy overboard,” replied a rough
voice, which I recognized as that of Will Atkins,
and in another second he bounded on deck, fired
two pistols at the retreating figures in the gig, and
then, cutting away another boat, leapt into it,
and crying out that he would arrest the thieves,
pulled with all his might and main after them.

‘It was an exciting race for the island where the
golden treasure lay.

I was alone on board. The vessel drifting in the
S. by S.S.W. direction. No sails up. No wind.
Becalmed! This, then, was the secret of. their

hurry.
of Robinson Crusoe, 107



‘CHAPTER XIII.

I SAIL WITH THE GALE.

FTER I had overcome
the first sensation
of loneliness, I
was puzzled to ac-

count for their de-








sertion. Evidently
the two men and the
boy had gone off in
search of the buried
treasure.

Will Atkins was only
one against three, but
he was well armed. Yet
why did he leave me in
possession of the ship?

He knew what cargo

Scanning the Horizon.

there was on _ board ;

the sailors were ignorant of this, otherwise my
108 The Real Adbentures



life would not have been worth an hour’s pur-
chase.

But Will Atkins knew everything. Was the
buried treasure so enormous as to attract him away
from the ship, or did he consider his compact with
me, signed as it were with so many shakes of the
hand, as sacred and binding on me as his partner?

The truth was that they all considered me a
mere land-lubber, as, in fact, I was; and they
thought that the ship would drift in, or that I could
do nothing with her in their absence. The sailors
must have calculated on leaving Will Atkins in the
ship with me. The sailors were only two men and
a boy, and if Will Atkins, armed, and with his

warrant to support his moral authority:



Here I paused in my meditations, which now took
a fresh turn. I would go down and see if Will
Atkins in his haste to be off had taken the valuable
document with him. I entered his cabin. No!
there it lay with his snuff-box and a corkscrew on
the table. I at once took possession of it, as a
matter of precaution, intending, of course, to have

a bit of fun with him on his return.
of Robinson Crusoe. 109

When I again went on deck there was one boat
in sight, a mere speck in the distance. It was, as
far as I could make out with the glass, the gig, with
the two men pulling and the boy steering. Will
Atkins had forged ahead of them it was evident,
and would be the first to slip ashore and plant his
foot. It would be indeed with him an illustration
of the old saying, ‘‘He planted his foot and up
came a constable.”

Stop!! Constable! He was a “ Marine Detec-

2

tive.’ Was it possible that this island was a
Government Police Station, that the story of the
treasure was only told to entrap me, and that if we
had landed there we should all have been handed
over by him to the Government as pirates, the ship
taken possession of by his fellow-marine-police,
and myself strung up at the yard-arm, while he
received a magnificent reward and a splendid
pension?

If so, why had he partially spoilt his own game
by telling me who he was? I think I can see
what his idea was in making this move; it was to

give me complete confidence in him as one who
110 The Real Anbentures

was running a considerable risk. However, so it
was: the two men and the boy would be caught:
and if the ship continued her course I too should
be brought in, the police-boats would come out,
and I should be a helpless prisoner. And had I
any guarantee for the security of the cargo? None
whatever. Evidently it had never entered into Will
Atkins’s head that I should dare to sail the ship
alone. But this is what I was determined to do.
I knew that besides the vast wealth stored
away on board, the ship had provisions for a
year, that is with only a crew of one,—myself,—
and so I piped all hands for a glass of grog,
warmed myself with a hornpipe, boxed the compass
for exercise, untied the wheel, gave it one good
turn; then, as one good turn deserves another, I
repeated it, and within five minutes I had the satis-
faction of seeing the head of the ship assuming
a northerly direction; that is going away from,
instead of towards, the land, which from this time
forward I have marked on the chart as Doubtful:
“Doubloon or Police Island,’ and the bay I

christened “ Doubloon Bay.”
of Robinson Crusoe, 11



There seemed however, to be a current drifting
inland, and once more I began to be fearful lest the
ship should glide stern foremost into Doubloon Bay.

Fastening the wheel so as to steer north, I
loosened the main-sheet, and with the assistance
of afew weights that were lying about and were
used for heaving the lead, I hoisted one sail, (I do
not know its name, but it was about the middle of
the vessel, | then I hoisted a fore-sail, and to my
delight I saw them bulge out. In another moment
I felt the vessel moving under me. At that instant
a faint cry reached my ears.

I turned—a boat was just visible—I looked
through the glass and could detect four oars.

Clearly Will Atkins and his own men, not the
ship’s crew, returning.

At this moment, as luck would have it, the breeze
dropped, and in consequence of the ship drifting
astern (I think this is the nautical expression, but I
mean ‘‘ going backwards”) they were gaining on
me every second.

There was a breeze—but it seemed to escape my

sail.
112 Che Real Adbhentures



In these regions night comes on with startling
rapidity, and even now the sun was at its last
gasp. Still as this might or might not help me,
I had rather have seen my way than have had to
feel it.

Suddenly it occurred to me that our stern-chaser
(a gun of some tonnage) was loaded, and being
curiously nearsighted, I thought that this would be
a merciful signal to my pursuers just to indicate
that I meant mischief.

So aiming as well as I could, and in much nervous
trepidation, for I am unused to fire-arms, I applied
a match to the gun.

It exploded with a force that made the ship reel
again. The explosion threw me on my back,
jerking me to so great a distance and with such
violence that, had it not been for a coil of rope, I
should have been precipitated over the bulwarks
into the sea. As it was, I lay senseless. When
I recovered, the'scene had entirely changed. The
sun had disappeared. It was night. Pitch-dark.
A fierce gale had sprung up. The masts were

bending under the swelling and tugging canvas.
of Robtnson Crusoe. 113



The vessel was rolling fearfully. I crawled on
my hands and knees to the wheel. A vivid flash
of lightning followed by a terrific clap of thunder
nearly blinded and deafened me.

A second flash lighted up the sea. Not a soul
was visible. No island, no boats, only sea, sea,
sea! !

Do what I could, I could not succeed in hauling
down either of the sails.

We were scudding at an awful rate, pitching
and tossing, as if the whole voyage was to be a
fearful game of chance. The compass shook and
shivered in its case. The wheel revolved, there
was no holding it. Every timber of the Crazy
Fane was strained to its utmost limits. I knew
nothing of sailing, nothing of navigation! What
could I do?

With superhuman energy I managed, during a
short lull, to fix the wheel so as to preserve the
direction in which the compass was pointing at the
moment. This was N. by N.W. Scarcely was
the desired result obtained than a violent gust rent
the sails, and a hurricane swept me from the deck

I
Loa The Real Adbhentures

into the roaring boiling sea.

I gave myself up for
lost.

I was tossed about as a boy used to be
tossed in a blanket by heartless companions.
was knocked about as if I were a football.

I lost consciousness.

I
Then

wo
‘7

Wy

SE

‘\



ye
Ms SAS

Ou

ZOU)

“1 was knocked about.”
of Robinson Crusoe. II5



CHAPTER XIV.
THE TRUTH ABOUT THE ISLAND.

. eo HEN I came to my-
self it was some
time before I could
realise my situation.
Had everything
_. been a dream?
- What had hap-
pened? Was I on
board ship, or at
Hull, or in Spain?
I called for the Cap-
tain, for the Cap-
tain’s wife, for Will

Atkins,—and then



0

‘On a gigantic rock.” suddenly the whole

truth flashed across me, as I sat bolt upright on
the top of a rock where some gigantic wave, more

I°2
116 Che Real Aoentures



kindly disposed than its fellows, had landed me high
anddry. Very dry. Parched. I murmured to my-

self, by a sort of poetic inspiration born of despair,

The day is breaking,
My head is aching,
I’m wracked in every bone.
My nerves are quivering,
My knees are shivering,
And I am here—alone !

I actually composed a tune to this on the spot,
and began tosing it. Was my brain reeling? No;
for I had written the lines on my shirt-cuff, and
had added the information “Copyright.” Then it
suddenly occurred to me that somewhere I had
heard how swans sing just before they die, and I
said to myself,

“Robinson, my poor friend, this is a bad
omen. Stop your singing. Look about you and
see what is to be done.”

Whereupon, summoning up all my latent energy,
Irose to my feet and gazed on the scene around me.
The prospect was not encouraging. In the

distance I could see the ship wedged in firmly
of Robinson Crusoe. 117



among the rocks, lying on her side like a huge
walrus asleep. I have never seen a huge walrus
asleep, or awake, but the simile sounds original
and correct. The waves still broke over her
and sportively danced about her, though the
violence of the storm had passed away, and the
grey morning was beginning to break, cold and
hopeless. I was on a sea-shore: above me were
cliffs of a reddish-brown colour crowned by a
considerable amount of verdure, and a little further
on I descried a small bay, which appeared to me
to be the mouth of a river, on whose banks by
walking a few steps forward so as to get a better
view, I clearly perceived several trees and a
quantity of long grass or reeds. Where was I?

“Tf I am looking on a river,’ thought I, “there
will be some fresh water there, and if I had
only managed to preserve my flask—”

With this I put my hands in my pockets and
began to rummage in my damp clothes. All I
could find was a corkscrew, three half-pence, a
pack of cards and a toothpick. What bitter

mockery there was in this collection of odds and
118 Che Real Adhentures



ends! A corkscrew, and no bottle of anything at
hand! three half-pence and not even a baker's
shop in the neighbourhood! a pack of cards and
not a companion to play with! a toothpick and
no sign of food anywhere!

If I could only reach the ship! At present this
was impossible; if it were now low tide I should
never manage it. But how if this were high tide!

I carefully descended from my perch to thesand,
which, whether it were high or low water, at the
present moment was of so magnificent an extent
as to rival that at Scarborough, with which, as a
north-country man, I was well acquainted, and the
idea flashed across me, what a splendid, fashion-
able watering-place this would make if it were only
within reach of civilisation, and if I only knew
where onearth Iwas! ‘Fortune, my dear Robin-
son Crusoe,” I said to myself, “‘may after all be
favourable, and what appeared to be your destruc-
tion may turn out to be the starting-point of your
future success.”

With this thought I cheered myself up a bit,

but I confess, now, that I felt very down on my luck,
of Robinson Crusoe, 119



and the more so, the hungrier and the thirstier I
became. I was right in my surmise about the
river. It was a small stream. I knelt down and
drank some of the water. Then I gave myself a
wash in the best manner I could, for I was always
a cleanly lad, and Iwas more distressed at not
having any soap with me than I was by the
terrible vicissitudes through which I had passed.

“‘Never,’’ I resolved then and there, “ never will I
crawl about without a small piece of soap anda
sponge, both of which can be carried in a case
as portable as an ordinary pocket-book.”

Still the draught did not appease my appetite.
but rather sharpened it. Where was I to look for
something to eat? And in this desert place
suppose something were also looking out for
someone to eat and should espy me! I had no
gun, no pistol, no knife, no sword !

The sun now commenced to shine. I did not
like to take off my clothes and dry them on the
rocks, not knowing who might come up, whether
friend or foe, or, if I was in an inhabited country,

whether there might not be some police regulations
120 Che Real Adbhentures



as to bathing, which would render me liable to the
utmost rigour of the law.

If there were man-eating animals about, then
I would far rather have my clothes on than be
found by one of these beasts without them. At
all events there would be some chance of escape
with clothes on, as the most determined and vora-
cious man-eating animal likes his food raw and
rather objects to man dressed ; whether well dressed
or badly dressed doesn’t matter.

One thing now became apparent—-that the tide
was going out, and that ifit only receded far enough,
I could reach the ship easily and have a good six
hours’ search all over the place. The anticipation
of this brightened me up, and once more I began to
look about me for something to eat.

In the bay the sea had already left the sand and
rocks clear, and here, remembering my early days
at Scarborough and Whitby with a little pail and
spade, I went in search of crustacea. I was not
long unrewarded. I found several small crabs,
some jelly fish, occasional mussels, and a few

small oysters which, evidently unaccustomed to the
of Robinson Crusoe. I21

proximity of man, were lying with their shells wide
open. I stalked them carefully, and thrusting a sharp
stone into half a dozen of them, I prevented them
from closing, and then swallowed them with an
avidity that must have considerably astonished
the natives. I got a good dozen of these (how I
longed for a pint of stout and brown bread and
butter!), and then went for the small crabs and
mussels, which, however, I forgot at the moment
required cooking before eating. I ate four mussels
and two crabs .... that was quite sufficient.
How I wished I had never touched them! In the
next hour I was in agonies, rolling on the sand
and suffering far more tortures than I had ex-
perienced on the previous night, when indeed,
after I was once hurled into the sea, I was uncon-
scious. But now!—With gratitude I noticed the
sea receding farther and farther from the shore. I
longed for the moment when I could reach the
ship and get a glass of the best brandy. There
was a clear mile of sand to traverse seawards
between me and the wreck, but I knew that on

board I should find a panacea for all my sufferings.
122 The Real Adventures



Occasional waves were splashing and leaping on
the rocks as I climbed the side of the Crazy Fane,
and with great difficulty crawled across the deck,
which was just at the angle she used to be when
going at full speed with all sail crowded and the
scuppers open.

The compass was fixed, but the wheel was
smashed, the vessel was creaking in every timber,
and I fully expected that she would go to pieces
while I was aboard. The question was—would she
afford me shelter for the coming night, as if not,
where should I sleep? Never did I realise how
comfortable my mode of existence had been until
now, when there was so sure a prospect of my being
houseless and homeless.

The tide would turn, and if there were a storm I
might be drowned in my berth, as helpless as a
blind puppy.

I went below and got straight to the Captain’s
desk. Here I found several bags of sovereigns and
a quantity of silver coins and paper-money with
which I had provided him, and which perhaps might

be of use in these strange parts, wherever I might
of Robinson Crusoe. 123

be. But in civilised haunts of European com-
merce, both the silver and the paper, excellent in
appearance though they were, would I knew be
valueless. However, in the hopes of one day see-
ing the Captain, or at all events of restoring this
money to his widow (if wife she had been) at Hull,
I secured all the available assets, such as cash,
rings, and various ornaments which he had left
behind him.. Also I found the will of which I had
been the solitary witness! Fortunately Captain
Jonathan Brown had been a methodical man in
his way, and so without difficulty I was able to
find all his account books, keys, private store of
cigars, of spirits, wine, and so forth.

Having warmed myself with a glass of cognac
medicinally, I visited the kitchen and the larder.
Here there were stores of potted and preserved
meats, vegetables, and in fact everything that a
man could wish for; and as for wine, coffee, tea,
tobacco, there was provision sufficient to supply
one person for a couple of years. The hold was
stuffed with contraband articles, as our Stores

had been taken on board at various ports and been
124 The Real Adventures



paid for with paper in which I had innocently lent
a hand, never dreaming that our Captain was going
to make a dishonest use of my clever imitations of
handwriting and signatures and of some of the old
but artistically designed bank-notes which had
caused my father so much trouble, for which I am
bound to say he only had himself to blame.

There was every sort of implement for carpenter-
ing. But of what use were these to me, who,
as the reader of this may remember, never could
hammer a nail, or fasten two bits of wood together
in my life?

There was plenty of gunpowder, a good gun and
lots of ammunition. There was a clever poodle on
board, which lay down at my approach and pre-
tended to be dead. But on my saying “ Here’sa
constable coming,’ he was up and gambolling
about as lively as ever.

There were several empty casks and boxes. But
how I was to land my cargo bothered me until I
saw the only small boat which had remained intact;
the other two, as has been already stated, had been

taken away, one by those scoundrelly sailors in
Â¥(

\\

‘
\\ N

(f

ty

il

\
\

i

"

Wy

Jy
g

h

HE
\



“That repose

Which only innocence unconscious knows.”—Eldoon.

[P. 125.
of Robinson Crusoe, 125

search of treasure, and the other by Will Atkins,
the Marine Detective—at least as he said he was—
in search of the sailors.

“If I put all these things in,” said I, regarding
several rounds of pressed beef—the best rounds
of ammunition I could want—a barrel of porter,
tins of preserved vegetables, cases of Newmarket
sausages, all sorts of condiments-——‘“‘I can’t get
them on shore untilhigh water. To think of drag-
ging the boat across the sand is absurd.”

It was a difficulty. However I loaded the boat
with everything I could, and then, lighting the
kitchen fire, I boiled the kettle, grilled some fowl
and ham, boiled some tinned mashed potatoes, made
some buttered toast, drank a bottle of Burgundy,
finished with an excellent cup of coffee and a choice
cigar with a chasse of old brandy, and then wrap-
ping myself up in Adolphus Jones’s dressing-gown
—his valise was intact—I lay down to meditate on

the next move in my campaign.
126 Cor el pepaaucee

CHAPTER XV.

MORE TRUTH.

I t
Nie,
NS

WAS awoke
from my sleep,
for I had gone
off into a deep
® slumber, by a
scrimmage

roundthecabin



in which I was



ZG The Fight for the Chicken.

lying as best I
could, considering the position of the
ship. I started up. Rats? No. It was
a fight apparently between the poodle

and a huge cat that having been with us during

the voyage, had principally confined herself to
the forecastle. The pair were struggling over the

remains of the chicken. I was only just aroused
of Robinson Crusoe. 127

in time, for the tide had turned, and the boat
was already beginning to float. So taking Jones’s
valise, (dear old Adolphus!) some warm clothes and
blankets, clean linen and thick socks, and putting
on the Captain’s high boots, I went over the side
into the boat and rowed myself. easily ashore.
Then I returned again and fetched a lot more
things, the difficulty increasing on every fresh
voyage; yet before nightfall I had contrived to land
a sufficient stock of food and drink to furnish me
comfortably for a fortnight. There they were all
lying out on the sea-shore high and dry, but it was
beginning to be cold, and where I was to spend the
night I hadn’t the smallest idea.

Even if I came upon a dry cave, “should I,’
said I to myself, “be its only tenant?” I detest
insects, hate wild animals, and am not a good shot.

As night came on I heard strange cries and
howls. It was so dark that when I attempted to .
walk in what I thought was the direction of the
river I fell several times over the rocks, hurting
myself severely, and so I gave up the attempt, and

remained standing near where I felt sure my trea-
128 The Real Adhentures



sures were. It was becoming very cold, and I could
not put my hand on the blankets. Once I moved
very cautiously, groping my way to where I thought
I had left them, when a deep growl sent the blood
from my heart, and made me break out in a profuse
perspiration. I gave a start back and trod on some
soft yielding body, and in another second I was
startled by a terrific squeal, and the claws of some
fierce animal fastened themselves in my unprotected
calves. I jumped and kicked and shouted. Then
all was still. What had happened I did not
know, but I was in great pain, and moreover, my
nerves were so upset that I was on the point of
giving way to blank despair. The growling and
hissing as of lions fighting with half a hundred
snakes continued at some distance from me, but
in what direction I was utterly at a loss to decide.
Suddenly, as happens in these climes, the moon
appeared on the scene, and by its light I saw the
cause of my recent pain and fear—namely, the cat
and dog, which, unobserved by me in the dusk, had
followed in the boat on my last return voyage.

It was bad enough, but I was glad it was no worse.
of Robinson Crusoe. 129



I spent the night miserably, walking about. I
had half a mind to shoot the poodle and the cat,
but was afraid (I fearlessly own it) to fire off my
gun, lest I should rouse some sleeping lion or other
monster, for I felt certain that so uncompanionable
were this cat and dog, that had a lion eaten me
they would have joined him in the meal, if per-
mitted, or would have waited to pick my bones as
a bonne bouche. That dog and cat I may now say
were the very deuce. In fact, for a long time I was

compelled to lead a regular cat-and-dog life.

And at this point, being free from all com-
pulsion, all threats, and every species of black
mail, I can write with perfect freedom, and I
beg the millions of readers who implicitly be-
lieved my first narrative, which I wrote with the

sword of Dedalus over my head,* to receive

* If proof be required of the genuineness and authenticity of this
document, I think this is almost conclusive, as Robinson was not by any
means a well educated man, and this is just the sort of classical proverb

he would have picked up.—Ep.
130 The Real Anoentures

this ¢rue story of the facts with undoubting
faith.

* * * * *

I found several blank scribbling books, plenty of

pens and ink, and at once I commenced my diary.

* * * * *

- Diary.—I am not certain what month it is, what
day itis, or where I am: So I will call it Sunday,
September rst. No, on second thoughts this is rather
hard on sportsmen, so I’ll make it the last day of
August, and then the first of September will be to-
morrow. No, on second thoughts, not being a
sportsman myself, I shall make it Monday, Sep-
tember 2nd.

Monday, Sept. 2.—I am not accustomed to strong
language, but dash that cat and dog, which have
kept me awake and ina state of perturbation all
night. Luckily I found the whiskey bottle and my
pipe. Wretched headache thismorning. Searched
all over the ship for soda-water. Found some

Epsom salts. Never take medicine. Took a lot



i; ys
Hh H Hh

- Paw AW \
~) epee



"A Cat-and-Dog Life.”

[P. 134.
of Robinson Crusoe, 133



more things off in the boat. But as I am going
to spend another night here, and many more
probably, I must have some shelter. There’s no
hut anywhere in sight. Seen one cave, but thought
I observed pair of glaring eyes at the end of it.
Tried to make poodle fetch it out, whatever it was.
Poodle refused; shivered, and howled, and then
lay down and pretended to be dead. Instead of
crying out ‘“Constable’s coming,” which is his
signal to jump up and run, I gave him a kick which
had precisely the same effect, only that he went off
yelping. Not a sporting dog, perhaps, but a
clever one.

I ought to have a hut of some sort, but how to
make one? I haven’t an idea.

A canvas tent will do to go on with if I can only
lug the sails on shore; they’re heavy and coarse,
and if I do get them there, I don’t see where I’m to
haul them up. Think it over at breakfast. Have
arranged café aw éatt, broiled bacon and eggs
(carefully preserved and quite fresh), shall dig into
a paté de fore gras and finish up with a dollop of

marmalade.
134 The Real Adbentures



Everything perfect, except that cat got into the
milk and upset it, and then, losing my temper, I
hurled the coffee-pot at her, whereupon the poodle
made off with the bacon. I threatened them
vigorously, and there is so strange an instinct in
dogs and cats that I fancy I shall not be troubled
by either of them again.
of Robinson Crusoe. 135

CHAP LE Row I
ISLAND DIARY CONTINUED.

ORKED at
tent all the
morning.
Can’t make

much of it.




Dragged

sails over

SSS
SY

ENN
Ea
SP

\\cs
At Yes

rocks to
shore, Tired.

Sel OE Ee ; Lunch. Cat
ee é = and dog ab-

sent. Soup

iN
\

hot, cutlets

Tent making.

a& la soubise,
rolled tongue, bottle of old Madeira, glass of hot

whiskey and water; then pipe. Geritle snooze be-
-136 Che Real Adhentures

fore I had cleared away. On waking, found every-
thing had been cleared away for me as if by fairies.
Saw poodle in distance at mouth of cave, into
which the last piece of rolled tongue was gradually
disappearing. ‘‘Oho,” says I to myself, ‘‘the cave
must be hungry.” Poodle shivering and growling,
but doesn’t dare attack the rum customer who is
consuming my goods within the recess.

A ftcrnoon.—Hurt my back severely in trying to
hoist the sails. Tried to climb tree but fell heavily
to ground. Must not be beaten ; feel as ifI had been,
tho’. Night coming on. I must be securely fixed
under my tent if I’m to get any sleep to-night. ©
And I must sleep at some distance from the ground,
as I loath blackbeetles, mice, and rats, and, in fact,
all those horrid things which come out and creep
about a ground-floor. So must make a hammock.
But how?

Supper-time.—After sunset. Succeeded at last.
Hauled up one sail as a roof, hauled sail underneath
as hammock. Must get in quietly. Better take
my gun and powder-flask and bullets in with me,

in case of accidents. Perhaps I had better sot

/
of Robinson Crusoe. 137

take them into the hammock in case of accidents.

But rug may be useful.

* * * * *

Morning.—Very early. Noideaoftime. Before
sunrise. But what a night! d/em. Never again
take a gun and powder-flask, &c., to bed with me.
An hour elapsed before I succeeded in jumping into
the hammock. Fell ever so many times. Sleep
impossible. Cat and dog fight below. Cat made
a spring and landed in hammock. Cat and man
fight. Cat out of the bag—I mean hammock.
Scratched all over. If cat mad what shall I do?
No sleep. Something stinging and biting. Sure
Theard roaring. Lay still. Lightning. Thunder.
Wind. Rain. Whata climate! Hammock-strings
giving. Zhud! Down on ground. Remainder of
night passed anyhow on the alert for wild animals.
Feel my hair is turning grey. Shall I try ham-
mock again? Storm has upset everything, Wreck
breaking up. Get some more stores ashore, includ-
ing trunks of clothes, with bed and table-linen,
Manage to get toilet-table and hip bath on shore,
138 The Real Adventures



When ship breaks up, shall lose stove, which
means no hot water and no hot things for dinner ;
unless I save stove now. Ship breaking up gra-
dually. With great exertion lugged, and tugged,
and dragged, big chest on shore. Opened my
chest. This will make a good sleeping place
for the night. Luncheon. Old Burgundy! and
plenty of it. Slept. No visitors. Cat and dog
disappeared. Perhaps gone wild.

Night.—My chest. * * * Wake up cramped.
Light lantern to write diary. As I light it I hear
something scuttling away in the distance. Cat?
or dog? If matters continue like this, I shall never
get any sleep. An idea!!! If I could haul up
boat so as to make a roof and four posts under-
neath with canvas all round, that would make a
sort of hut. Will try it.

Day.—Found a large sort of cupboard on wheels
which makes a first-rate bathing machine. Also
in Captain’s cabin a screen covered with fancy
pictures to serve for nice compact bachelor’s dining-
room. Working all day at this. Wreck breaking ,
up. Managed, first, to haul up stern of boat, then
of Robinson Crusoe, 139



stem between two trees. Support it with oars and
spars. Cook dinner on stove. Good. Sit down
to dinner. Begin to ruminate over past errors.
If my father had only brought me up to be a
carpenter, a joiner, a builder, how useful such
knowledge would have been to me now.

Hurt my fingers awfully with hammer. Nearly
took my thumb off with a chisel. And danced
with agony when I missed an iron nail and hit my
own nails instead.'! Cat and dog turn up again.
Dog playfully jumping up at me, and cat running
about with pieces of rope. Should like to shoot
them, but afraid of firing off gun. At the sound of
a shot, wild Bain ale might be aroused. A weary
day! !

At last hauled up boat; fastened canvas round
spars and oars underneath. Makes quite a nice
house. ;

Supper -time.—Pipe. Hot grog. And to bed
after carefully fastening the canvas all round. Gun

loaded. Hope I shall sleep comfortably.
140 The Real Adbentures



Next Morning.—I am beholding an utter smash.
Barely escaped with life. Boat down on the
top of me, canvas collapsed, spars and .oars scat-
tered. But for the fact of the benches being out
of the boat I must have been killed. It was bad
enough at sea, but now what on earth is to be
done?

Wreck disappeared, storm during night swept it
away. This is what upset my boat-house. I am
drenched to the skin. The ropes on examination
present the appearance of having been clean cut
through with a sharp knife. Could a cutter have
landed in the night? or was there a cutting wind?
Bad. What to do now I don’t know.

* * * * *

Am walking about a mile inland very cautiously.
See no one. Stop to note in diary. What’s that?
A sound? A human voice? It is! What do I
hear?

““Who’s a thief and liar? Robinson!”

I can hardly believe my ears. I listen. It is

repeated. Whose voice? Where? I see nobody.
of Robinson Crusoe. 141



I don’t believe in spirits



and yet—— I feel very
uncomfortable



Not a sign of asoul anywhere or

of a body !—— Insulting observation repeated just



“Il took aim at the bird.”

above my head. Aha!—— A large grey parrot! !
“Pretty Poll! — Pretty Poll!— Scratch-a-poll —
who’s-a-thief-and-li—”” He stops and glances

sideways at me. He begins again, hopping on
142 The Real Addentures



to another branch, ‘“‘who’s a thief’— and stops
short. He sees me and is silent. Very strange.
He flies on to another tree farther off. Ruffles his
feathers and begins again furiously, ‘‘ Who’s-a-
thief-and-liar-Robinson-tooral-looral-loo ! ”

I can’t stand this, I will fetch my gun.

* * * * *

I remember no more. In fear and trembling, I
resume my narrative. I did fetch my gun; I raised
it to my shoulder—I took aim at the bird—when
something felled me——TI have only just recovered
consciousness, and find myself lying on my back
under the tree where I first heard the parrot’s

insulting cry !!
of Robinson Crusoe. 143

CHAPTER: XVIT.
AN AWFUL TIME !

LARV con-
tinued—
Fearful
headache
and a very
bad bump,

where the

x

‘bad bumps’

I
i

ought to be,

2.€. at the



back of my

“Where are we now?” head. I arise
thoughtfully. Parrot vanished. Gun and ammu-
nition disappeared. Impossible this parrot could
have taken them away. Sounds something like

fairy tales one used to hear in childhood’s unhappy
144 The Real Adbentures



days. The parrot speaking would be nothing else-
where,—but “eve ! And saying such things in con-
nection with my name. Libellous and slanderous.
Yet what action canI take? Iam puzzled.
Retrace my steps carefully. Shall not attempt
hoisting up boat again: will sleep in it as it is.
Odd. Some one has been taking my provisions.
Can it have been the cat? or the dog? or both:
Certainly the provender is diminished. The only
firearm left me is a pistol. Some mystery here!
I will send up rockets on the chance of obtaining
assistance from a casual passer-by * * * Burnt
my fingers horribly : I never was a hand at letting
off fireworks. Shan’t try again. Verycold. Must
get shelter. Contrived to fasten up blanket, in
order to keep off the wind. * * * Dinner * * *
Good glass of Port. Note. Enjoying myself——
Another mess! Cat and dog returned chiveying
a big goat. Goat went for me and the blanket.
Upset everything. Cat, dog, self and goat all
sprawling about together. Fortunately there’s a
big hole just before you come to the edge of the

river, and the goat tumbled in,
of Robinson Crusoe. 145



Secured him. Idea occurs to me! If I could
teach the goat tricks with cards, there might bea
‘fortune before us. Learned goat!

Will commence this evening.

Progressing with goat. Clever animal. _ Foresee
going round the country on my return to England
with lecture, dissolving views, and performing
goat. “A nicht wi’ Robinson.” Cat and dog
join in sometimes and spoil it. * * * Been a
week here now. Caught violent cold. Am lying
down wrapped up in blankets, inside boat,
which I’ve managed to prop up and make
comfortable. No further news of parrot. Think
my sneezing must have frightened every living
creature except the cat, dog and goat away,
as I’ve been quite quiet. What an oppor-
tunity for mastering all sorts of tricks with
cards! When I leave this island—if it is an
island—I ought to be a proficient. I found ten
packs before the ship broke up. “Packs! take-
um!” says I to myself, remembering a little

L
146 The. Real Adventures



of my scholarship, pronounced in the foreign
-way, “and a.quiet life there’ll be for me here, I

expect.”

* * * * *

My provisions do disappear in a most extra-
ordinary manner. This is becoming serious.
Beastly place: no comfortable bed: no fire: have
-only to creep under the boat for shelter. I’ve
-managed to deposit the cook’s small stove within
a hole in the rock, so that I can cook grills, and
make hot drinks, including tea and coffee. But itis
a miserable life, and on the first chance of getting
away, I’m off. Luckily I found all the bullion which
the Captain and the pretended Marine Detective
had stowed away. Have hidden it. 7 know where
to find it. It amounts to a very large sum,
probably thousands, for I have not yet had time to
count it, in foreign and English coin and notes.
The question is, can I conscientiously claim it? I
ask my conscience, The answer is “ Certainly, in
the King’s name.” There is no mistaking the

voice of conscience. As a loyal subject I can
of Robinson Crusoe. 147

employ it when I get the chance, and on my return
to my native land, the taxes that I shall have to
pay to the Government will be as it were a sufficient

interest given by me for the use of the money.

What date is this ? I don’t know.—To-night I was
awoke by the parrot’s voice. It cried, “ Who-stole-
the-notes-Robinson-scratch-a-poll!’’ I rushed out,
trod on the goat, which butted at me viciously.
Fortunately it was moonlight and the clouds served
me a good turn. Very sore, cold, weary, and,

puzzled, I returned to my boat.

* i * * *

Was sleeping in comparative comfort, in what J
now term my Boat-house, when it suddenly came
down upon me. It fell keel upwards. Myself
underneath. Second time of asking: ‘Who did
this?”? It was an hour before I could scrape away
the sand and kick the lumbering old thing over.
Sprained my back: barked my shins and hurt my-

L 2
The Real Adventures

148



Oe
Sere

:

if

AST



‘*Was | on the track of a Blackfoot Indian?”

I had left Atkins on

h of treasure.

h now

Wis
had gone

self everywhere.

in searc

ip and

the sh
of Robinson Crusoe. 149

Walking round, after righting the boat, I noticed
footprints!! No doubt of it. Men, women, or
apes? Now I begin to guess who has purloined
my sugar, coals, wood, candles, pressed beef, and
provisions generally. I regret having suspected
the dog and cat. Had I made friends with them,
the dog at least would have been a protector. But

now



Aha! a sail in sight !—a vessel! Where are my
pistols? I put the caps on. I pull the trigger.
No, not a sound! Where’s the powder? Gone!
Where are the rockets? Can’t find them. Yes;

one at last! Now if it will only——Bang !
# * * * %

I lighted the wrong end, and I am singed and
scarred all over. Oh! Oh! If I can only attract
their attention—At this moment a flight of arrows
darkens the air, and so many stick into me, I begin
to fear I shall soon resemble a human porcupine.
Then, with yells and screams, a number of savages,

hideously tattooed, rushed down on me, led by the
150 The Real Adbentures

goat. the dog and the cat. At least, so it
appeared. The dog and cat were flying towards
me—perhaps for shelter, for the dog had some-
thing in his mouth which he had probably
stolen; but the goat, out of sheer viciousness,
butted at me straight in the knees. I couldn’t run,
but fell, and raised my hands in an attitude of
supplication.

The leader of the savages, a black man, pointed
a gun (my own! I recognised it!) at me, and the
others poised their spears and fitted their arrows,
all taking the same aim ; namely, at me.

Now, I thought, my last hour has come! Alas !
zt was even worse than that! ! It was my first hour !
It was only the commencement of a long series of

atrocities.
Ml)

i yy A yi
ee



[P. 150.

Arrowing Situation.
of Robinson Crusoe. 151

CHAPTER = XVII.

LEVEE OF BLACK MAIL.

ag PAUSE in hor-

ror. Ilay down
my pen and re
call this scene.

There is no



necessity for me

lL
ies

) to have recourse’
SS /
—S> : es
SS to my diary
— .
[which, how-

€

ever, I have
always man-
aged to keep
with more or

less regularity, |

“Spare my life,” | cried.

for the memory:

of it all is fresh, still fresh and green. I write:
152: Che Real Adventures

when all is over with him and he will trouble me
no more, I firmly hope and trust—he and his. Ah!
I have suffered a martyrdom.

You who have read the other history which / was
compelled to write—you who have admired and
pitied and loved the poor savage Friday know him
now as he really was.

Friday ! ‘good’ Friday! not a bit of it. If he
had to be named after any day of the week, it ought
to have been “Black Monday.” Friday, the in-
telligent Friday, the simple child of nature, Friday
who asked pretty catechism questions, Friday who
was so brave, Friday so affectionate, Friday so
filial, Friday so, in short, everything perfect— was
a Humbug—a big fraud—he was Friday of the
Sunday schools, maznly znvented to sell that “ true
history’ which I was forced to compile.

The real Friday was a black tyrant over me; he
was an unforgiving savage.

“Was he not a man and a brother?” Ah,
indeed—was he not? Was / not? He was Black
Mail personified. You shall hear, and be prepared

for a surprise, which I must defer until you
of Robinson Crusoe, 153

have mastered the facts of these unheard-of

atrocities.
“Spare my life!’ I cried out in an agony.

The bravest of us quail at certain moments.
When my time comes I am ready to die in a good
cause, if there is an absolute necessity for the
sacrifice: but this I felt was no such occasion.
Why surrender to a party of half-clothed savages ?
I had always heard that these simple children of
nature were to be pacified with coloured beads,
tin canisters, and so forth; and if these would
make friends of them, why I had _ several
articles of cheap finery which the Captain, who
as I have said was a lady-killer, had left on
board and of which I was now the sole guardian.
I certainly hadn’t any beads, but I remembered
that I had some dried peas and several empty
tins which, it occurred to me, would please the
untaught barbarians immensely.

Forgetting that they could not understand a

word I said, I addressed them in a tone calculated
154 The Real Adbentures



to touch their hearts and enlist their sympathies
for a stranger in distress.

“Gentlemen!” I began, ‘‘Noble Captain and
Gentlemen——”’

But, at a signal from their leader, they raised
a shout, which well-nigh deafened me, and then
he pointed imperiously to the ground, and two
ferocious looking men, armed to the teeth and
carrying long naked swords, strode forward, and
before I could make the slightest resistance, which
I felt would have been vain, they jerked my hands
behind me, pinioned me so that I fell forward on
my face, still in a kneeling attitude, expecting
every moment the descent of the executioner’s
sword, when I felt a foot placed on the nape of my
neck, and a pressure exerted which forced my nose
down into the sand.

This I remember to have heard was a token
that the person whose head was so trodden on,
placed himself absolutely in the power of the man
whese foot was on his neck.

“Kurra wurra ma koo?” he asked in some

barbaric tongue of which I can only convey
a Ee ite
4




SSS SSS SS SS

SS
ee

SSS SS

SSS

SSS

SSS SS
SSS

SSS





































































































































































































































































iy















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































Min

The Neck Step.
[P. 154.
of Robinson Crusoe, 155

the sound, though from the intonation of his
voice, I perfectly comprehended his meaning,
which was in effect to ask me, “did I accept
service?”

I grovelled still lower, burrowing with my nose
in the sand, in order to give full and complete
expression to my absolute conveyance of myself
into his power as a slave.

He removed his foot, and I looked up, and
breathed again, but only for a second, as all the
tribe advanced, one after the other, each placing
his foot on my neck, and scraping the rough sole
across the nape as if I were nothing but a door-
mat.

Then they gave a tremendous shout.
156 Che Real Anhentures



CHAPTER XIX.

“AM I NOT A MAN AND A BROTHER?”

No. They had
got hold of the
ship’s cooking-
stove which I
had found so
useful on shore,
and the chief

indicated to me



in dumb show

oar low tele that I was ex-
pected to lay the fire, as they were very hungry
and wanted to eat. To eat!! Were they canni-
bals? and was I to make the very fire defore which

I was to be dressed for dinner ?
of Robinson Crusoe, 157



Refusal was useless; flight impossible. I had
to make the fire, blow the bellows, and pile up the
wood and coal, while they sharpened their knives,
smacked their lips, and regarded me gloatingly.
The fire blazed up, the coals were red hot.
“Gorra!’’ shouted the chief, and they all raised
their knives. Whether it was the heat from the
fire, or the excitement, I don’t know; but the
perspiration stood out in beads on my forehead—
the idea struck me at the moment that savages .
being fond of beads this must add to my attrac-
tiveness in their eyes—my knees gave way, and
when they again shouted “Gorra!” all together
(which would have been a fine dramatic effect if I
had not been taking part in the scene) my head ©
whirled, and I fell down in a dead swoon.

When I recovered consciousness I was in a dark
cell, and somewhere near me was the parrot, whose
voice I heard croaking, ;

““Who-stole - the - notes - Robinson - scratch - a-
poll?”

What this portended I hadn’t the smallest idea.

I was too weak to throw anything at him, even if.I
158 The Real Adbentures



had had anything handy to throw. I sank back on
the straw which served for a pallet, and wondered
where I was, and what I was? What? A slave.

Yes; a slave and a prisoner. I was kept on
bread and water, and had to work all day, cleaning
pots and kettles, doing all sorts of menial offices,
compelled to chop wood, to saw, to hammer nails,
while two men with loaded guns accompanied me
everywhere, and, if I showed the slightest sign of
failing or quailing, a third touched me up with a
whip of eighteen lashes.

Imagine what I suffered! I who had been the
dandy at Hull, I who had been the boy of pleasure
and the man of business! I who could wield a pen
and use my brain, to be forced to demean myself
to such offices as the lowest scullion would not
willingly undertake.

Scullion do I say! Iwas man of all work, and
as I had never in my life been apprenticed to any
trade, the mess I made of everything I touched was
something awful. But no matter whether I hurt
myself with carpenters’ tools or what not, I was

punished by my taskmasters with the whip.
of Robinson Crusoe. 159

In the middle of this abominable servitude I kept
my secret as to the treasure I had hidden in the
hole of the cave strictly to myself, and made no
attempt to walk in that direction, lest I should be
followed and robbed of what might in time prove a
valuable store. One thing I noticed was that these
Savages were not quite so black as they were
painted. That they were painted, or “made up”
as stage-players call it, was a fact; but that they
were not naturally black, or anything darker than
a dirty brown, I ascertained by close observation.
They were not naked, but wore all sorts of gar-
ments, the cut of which seemed far from unfamiliar
to me, and I felt sure that they had been taken
from wrecks, or perhaps exchanged for produce by
occasional European explorers. Nor did their
language appear to me so uncouth and barbarous
as I had been at first led to suppose. Indeed, I
detected English words in their conversation.
This occasioned me some anxiety, and caused me
to use some extra wariness in my dealings with
them.

Their dinners, which I had to assist in cooking,
160 The Real Avbentures



were really excellent. Most of the dishes, of course,
were provided from the ship’s stores, of which, as
I have already remarked, there was a supply
sufficient for a long period.

I now began to be very cautious how I kept my
_ diary, for if there were some who could speak
English, there might also be some who could
read it.

One morning I was summoned to the chief’s
house, for house it was, not a mere hut. He was
a full-grown man much painted, of a tawny com-
plexion not absolutely black,.and arrayed in a
kind of Spanish hunter’s costume. There were
_knives and pistols in his belt, an English fowling-
piece (mine—or rather one of those from the
Crazy Fane) in his hand. He was seated at a
table which I at once recognised as having
belonged to my old friend Captain Jonathan
Brown the gay Lothario. My portmanteaus were
about, empty, and books and papers, all from the

vessel, were scattered about the room.



“Your name is >?” he commenced, with a

slight accent. I was thunderstruck, but politely
of Robinson Crusoe. 161.

interrupting him, as I thought he intended me to
do, I said, ‘“‘ My name is Robinson Crusoe.”

“Not while you’re with ws,” he replied, sternly,
and, strange to say, the sound of his voice was not
strange tome. ‘While you are here you are our
cook, scullion and bottle-washer, and you take your
name, as is the custom of our kitchen, from the day
on which you arrived.”

I observed humbly, that “I had long since lost
all count of days.”

“But we have not,” said the chief. “We name
almost all our days after our food. The first is
Swineday, when we only eat pork: The second is
Muttonday, the third Stewsday, the fourth Wen-
sonday, the fifth Thirstday, when we go in for
the big drink, the sixth Fryday, which speaks for
itself, the seventh Sadderday, because on this
day we never have any feasting, but are hard at
work. On that day our criminals are punished,
the accused tried. You came here on Friday, your
name with us will be Friday.”

““My name when at home,” I ventured to say,
tor I thought I might confide in a barbarian who

M
“162 The Real Adhentures

expressed himself so clearly in my own native
language, ‘“‘is John Robinson Crusoe.”

“There is no Robinson Crusoe here,” he replied, .
frowning severely, “except myself.”

I could not repress a start.

“What!” I exclaimed, “ You!!”

“Yes,” he answered, looking round upon his staff
of lieutenants, who were grouped around him, like
figures in a wax-work show, and formed a sort of
court-martial. ‘Yes, is it not so? Who is
Robinson Crusoe here?”

“You are!”

All of them, to a man, speaking English! And
I was the man to whom they were speaking it.
Was I in adream? He waved his hand and the
black executioners with long swords and whips of
eighteen tails entered.

The chief, who styled himself Robinson Crusoe,
addressed me thus :—

“Fryday, I will tell you a story. Once upon a
time there was a young man who stole five sove-
reigns from his father, hid them in his half-

brother’s room and then accused the latter of the
of Robinson Crusoe. 163

theft. As the sovereigns were found in the posses-
sion of the accused, his guilt was taken as proved,
and he was expelled from his father’s house, where,
in consequence of his half-brother’s cruelty, he had
never lived happily. The lad who was unjustly
banished, left a letter for his brother calling him
“a thief and a liar,’ and promising him ‘a sound
thrashing if ever they met,’ and wishing that he
might receive several sound thrashings even before
that time arrived.”

Though I could scarcely believe my ears or eyes,
yet, instinctively, I knew what was coming.

“Tt is not likely,’ continued the chief, “that
tanned by the sun, and painted as I am, you could
after this lapse of time recognize your half-brother
William. I am William Robinson Crusoe.”

“Billy!” I gasped.

“You have already been thrashed and punished
up toa certain point.”

“ Quite enough,” I murmured.

“That is for your judges to decide,” he returned.
““When / submitted to you I was a poor weak little
chap, now I am what you see me, and I give

M 2
164 The Real Adventures



you your choice between a sound thrashing, or
a full and entire confession of your guilt and my
innocence, to be written out in the presence of my
friends.”

Who could hesitate? Choice? There was no
choice. I say it now, when all the actors in that
memorable scene are scattered far away, alive or
dead. I was compelled to write a full confession.
Of what value could such a document be coming
from me in the presence of the executioners?

And after I had signed, sealed, and delivered
it, the infernal double-dyed deceitful scoundrels,
headed by my unnatural half-brother, gave me the
thrashing all the same. Now I understood who

had taught the parrot that insulting sentence.
of Robinson Crusoe. 165

CHAPTER XxX.

3

ROBINSON, ATKINS, & CO.

ii ID they release














: me?
Zo Te
ee J i
May Not a bit of
LES it. I had to
: oes ZQ G i 1
UY; SoA go on signing
AS \e declarations

\

of guilt and

BEE
A
i innocence
i
YD every day.



My _ brothers’

companions

\ Si

Sees were roving
traders whom

“1 won small sums.” he had come
across from time to time. Often they disappeared
for days together, leaving me in charge of the

executioners and sentinels armed to the teeth.
166 The Real Adbentures

‘lo while away the time, which hung rather
heavily on my hands, I produced my cards, and in
the stable I found my goat tethered, so that I was '
able to amuse my guardians. “The first step,”
thought I, “to liberty.”

I won small sums from them, and by not press-
ing for payment I won much more than money
from them, that is, their confidence. As to money,
I knew I had plenty of that in the hole in the cave,
if I could only get at it unobserved and make off
with it.

Unfortunately for me, my friends informed the
chief (I mean my brother) on his return of how I
had been passing the time, upon which I was sent
for, and ordered to play a game, a Spanish-Dutch
game, called Van Trompos, of which I knew some-
thing more, I fancy, than most of them. All the
sea-chests from the Crazy ‘ane, containing
valuables (except the box with the guineas,
sovereigns, and notes in it, the existence of which
was still unknown to anyone except myself) were
placed out, and I was to play for life, liberty, and

fortune. If I won ten games out of twelve I was
of Robinson Crusoe, 167

to be free; if I won twelve I was to be free and
presented with sufficient money to take me home.
If I lost, my term of servitude was to be prolonged,
and my treatment would be more rigorous.

Who can wonder that I tried my best? And
succeeded. I was on the point of scoring my ninth
game when a stentorian voice shouted, “ He’s got
a second pack in his sleeve. I arrest him!” and
at the same moment a hand was laid heavily on
my shoulder. I turned—pale. It was Will
Atkins. ,

“ Atkins,” said my brother, “you know this
person?”

It was evident that Bill Crusoe and Will Atkins
were in collusion. Yet where had they met?

“Know him?” replied Atkins, with a strong
expression which I will not repeat. “Rather!
Y arrest him as a forger, as an utterer of base
coin, and as having stolen the vessel called the
Crazy Fane, and embezzled her entire cargo.
Here are my warrants;’’ and he produced one
in English, another in Dutch, and a third in

Spanish.
168 The Real Adventures



What could Ido! Iwas in the power of these
ruffians, and it was evidently a conspiracy.

“When you once got away,’ Atkins said,
addressing me, “‘ you should have got away alto-
gether on another tack.”

“You left-me on board, and went off in search of
treasure,” I retorted boldly; ‘‘pretending you were
after the other sailors.”

ee Here they -are,’’ he said, indicating the man
and boy. And there they weresure enough. ‘But
how did they get here?”

“How did we get here?” returned Atkins.
“Well, it’s simple enough. We landed on the
north side of the island, and in the storm you were
driven right round, and came in on the south side.
See?”

“We happen to possess what treasure. there was
on the island,’ observed my brother, quietly.
“We're a trading company, we have our own
vessels, and when you have complied with the de-
mands of Mr. Atkins, we will return to England.”

“With you,” added Atkins, addressing me, with

ill-timed levity, ‘‘in our safe custody.”
of Robinson Crusoe, 169

That night I had to sign another affidavit, giving
a full, true and particular account of the voyage,
and of everything I had done with the cargo, for
which I was pleased to remark my brother and
the so-called “trading company” would have to
account to Will Atkins, who appeared,—so he
gave me to understand,—on behalf of the English
and Spanish owners.

I did not believe in Atkins’s honesty and good
faith. Ido not believe a man to be what he says
he is, when I have only his word for it. So I kept
my own counsel, and not one syllable did I utter,
either to my half-brother Bill, or to Mr. Atkins,
about the treasure I had stored away in the cave.

They doubled the guard and kept me a close
prisoner till we started.

I could not sleep. It was a fine moonlight
night, lovely! I stood on the chair and peered
through the bars which guarded the window of the
cell in which I was confined.

Presently I heard voices. Soft whispers. I
strained my eyes and craned forward. It was my

brother walking along the sea-shore with a fine
170 The Real Adhentures



handsome coloured woman ; the light was strong
enough for me to see that she was carrying a little
creature, like a papoose or Indian baby, in her arms.
He embraced her, and she him. Then they passed
out of my sight.

“Oho!” says I to myself. Then I tumbled back

on the straw and fell into a sweet sleep.



«1 tumbled back on the straw.”
HN
WA



on.

[P. 170

By the Sad Sea Wave, or an Indian Not
of Robinson Crusoe. 170

CHAPTER XXI.

CONFIDENCES.

EXT morn-
ing we em-
barked. Will
Atkins, two
of ‘the Com-

pany” as

guards, and

my brother.

Atkins was

= for putting

S steers:
the indignity

of handcuffs

\Y on me_ but

“After Dark!”



deferred this

until night.
Iwas closely
guarded.
My brother

lingered, till the last moment on shore and
172 The Real Adbentures



then I saw him bidding a tender farewell to
the Dark Lady and the papoose at the door
of his bungalow. This lady had been kept un-
commonly dark till now. At all events I had
never seen her.

I said to myself, “‘ You are leaving your treasure,
brother Bill, in your bungalow, and I am leaving
mine in the cave. I shall-return for mine. Will
you for yours?”

The voyage was an uneventfulone. Will Atkins
and myself engaged frequently in amicable con-
versation, from which I gathered that he was not
altogether satisfied with my brother’s conduct
towards him.

It seems that my brother, after encountering
several changes of fortune, had at last become a
partner in a trading merchants’ firm, and during
some expedition had landed on Doubloon Island,
where they had ingratiated themselves with the
natives, and, for a few beads, bits of tin and
such like rubbish, had become possessors of the
Island and its treasure, submitting only to yield

to the customs and habits of the friendly savages,
of Robinson Crusoe. 173



among whom they had permanently taken up their
abode. For years my half-brother had been in
correspondence with his native land and Holland,
and that to both places as I understood he
had transferred all the money which his traffic on
Doubloon Island, with the ships of all nations had
enabled him to realise. His capital was well in-
vested, Will Atkins informed me, and he had
provided for his old age.

«‘ Was he married?” I asked innocently.

But to this Atkins vouchsafed no reply. He
further informed me how on leaving the Crazy Fane
he had overtaken the two men and the boy, and
how all three had been arrested and brought before
my half-brother, whose acquaintance he had pre-
viously made in the Dutch country. He told my
half-brother about me, he said, never expecting
to see me alive again. A hunting and fishing
excursion to the southern part of the Island
discovered me to them, and it was my half-
brother who then sent for his parrot, and who
organised the practical jokes, such as stealing

my provisions, and cutting the ropes of my boat,
174 The Real Adboentures

which last amusement had like to have cost me
my life.

“You left your warrant on board the Crazy
Fane,” said I to Will Atkins, remembering how I
had found it in his cabin.

“A duplicate,’’ was the old sailor’s reply, as
with a wink he rolled off to another part of the
vessel.

On another occasion he interested me much by
telling me how he had been engaged in proceedings
against a gang of forgers, and how when he was at
Azuvero he received tidings that the principal was
on board the Crazy Fane. It turned out to be my
father and not myself of whom he was in search, a
mistake that he did not discover till too late, for
it was not until he had fairly started that he
opened his secret instructions and then read that
John Robinson the elder had departed this busy
life some weeks previously. He had communi-
cated this to half-brother Billy, who showed no signs
of emotion, but I must confess that I was fora few
moments completely overcome by the intelligence.

My father and myself had had interests in common,
of Robinson Crusoe. 175

and I had still some specimens of his handiwork
in my possession which would now be dear to me as
relics of the past: as anything else they were
worse than useless, for art does not stand still, and
these admirable imitations of grand originals were
now somewhat clumsy and old-fashioned.

I think Will Atkins conceived a liking for me:
at all events we began to understand one another,
and he soon discovered that it would be more to his
advantage not to trouble me about past matters,
such as the Captain’s treasure, the ornaments, the
ship’s goods, and my friend Adolphus Jones's
valise (which had trinkets in it to the value of
some hundreds of pounds), as long as I had it in
my power, as I hinted to him I had, to make his
fortune and to establish him luxuriously for life.
Of course I was thinking of the treasure that was
still hidden away in a trunk in the cave on Doub-
loon Island, which none of them had as yet hit
upon. But this I kept to myself, merely giving
him an earnest in hard cash of my good-will
towards him.

So it happened that when we landed at Bristol
176 Che Real Anbentures



there was a rush on shore, and somehow or another
we were separated from each other, my brother
going one way, Will Atkins another, and I zz an
unguarded moment stepping on board a vessel
that was bound for Hull, at which port I, having
landed with my Adolphus valise and a couple of
trunks, proceeded at once to Zhe Three Folly
Martners, where I ordered. a pleasant dinner,
arranged my plans, and went to bed with a light
heart, sleeping more comfortably than I had done

for many a long night.

2 Bas
ea

NSS >
3



“A




Comfortable quarters.
of Robinson Crusoe. 177

CHAPTER XXII.

A HAPPY RETURN.




HE fol-

Ail inoue lowing
morning

’ Hl I arrayed my-
Ke self in the best

\ \ : as ! suit I could find
Y) = among Adol-

io

phus Jones’s

clothes, which

‘<

ee z

MAT

were still in
perfect preser-
vation, though
I regret to say,
owing to the
considerable
lapse of time,
they were not
in the latest

“‘Arrayed in the best suit.”

fashion, and set

N
178 The Real Adventures



out for the address which Polly Newport had given
me some years previously on that eventful night.
In my pocket I had Captain Jonathan Brown’s
will, and I was delighted to remember what he
himself had told me as to her having a modest
competence of her own, so that I need be under
no apprehension on the score of her having suffered
any privation during her husband’s absence, or in
consequence of his untimely decease. Was she
wife or widow: that was the question. He had
deserted her, and the chances were a hundred to
one that he was dead and that she was free. On
thinking over the circumstances in which I left
him, namely at Azuvero with the jealous Sara
Gossa, and the Assassin Enriquez with the stiletto
in his hand, remembering too that he was never
seen alive again, nor heard of even by the prying
Will Atkins, the probabilities were that he was dead,
and realizing the scene over and over again in my
mind’s eye, I could havesworn that I saw Enriquez
stab the unfortunate man just as the ship was start-
ing, which circumstance, unhappily, prevented me

from rendering him any assistance. As I entered
of Robinson Crusoe. 179



the street where Polly lived, I had almost made up
my mind to spare her all the anxiety and pain of
suspense, and to inform her that she was free, add-
ing how deeply and devotedly I had always been
attached to her. Before determining on this
course I inquired in the neighbourhood about
Mistress Polly, whom I found everybody knew,
though after recognising her by my graphic
description, they insisted on her name being
Mistress Smith. Perhaps the mistake was
mine, I admitted, but evidently Mistress Polly
Newport, a/zas Smith, was in comfortable circum-
stances, with a nice house and garden, and as I
was given to understand, had expectations from
an uncle who was in command of some ship. Of
her marriage with Captain Jonathan Brown no one
was aware, though they conjectured she was married
toa Mr. Smith; and from this uncertainty on the
part of the neighbours, I gathered that either she
and the Captain had been secretly married, or that
Brown had deceived her by marrying her under
the assumed name of Smith. But in any case I
was glad to remember that, fortunately for her, I

N 2
180 Che Real Adbentures



had taken the precaution of having her mentioned
in the Captain’s will by her maiden name. A
publican informed me that he thought it not im-
possible she might be again contemplating matri-
mony, as he had recently seen her in company with
a stranger, who seemed on very intimate terms
with Mistress Newport. This caused me to hasten
my steps.

I approached Myrtle Cottage. Sure enough
there was Polly in the garden. And undoubtedly
in widow’s weeds: not extravagant, but certainly
a widow’s dress, as neat, as tidy, and as coquettish
as when first I saw her. But why the weeds?
Had she already learnt the news that I was
bringing her?

At first she did not recognise me. When she
did, she gave me both her hands and led me into
the house.

“Sweet one!” I whispered, putting my arm
round her and giving her a kiss, for I was deter-
mined to lose no time.

“OQ!” she murmured, “don’t! some one may

come in at any moment.”
of Kobtnson Crusoe. 181



I pressed her to my heart as I whispered, “ I’ve
got something of the utmost importance to tell
you.”

She seemed agitated and looked up appealingly.
I went on rapidly:

“It is about Jonathan Brown.”

‘““Hush—take care’’—she exclaimed in a
frightened manner.

‘“‘He’s dead,” said I, breaking it to her as gently
as possible.

She staggered to a chair.

“Impossible! ”’ she gasped.

“Not at all,’ I replied. “At my request—I was
with him before he died—he left you all his money
on condition of your marrying me,’—I added this
by a sort of inspiration,—“ and here I am!”

“I don’t understand!” she said, clasping her
head with both hands.

“J helped him to make his will; I saw him die ;
and I can get several to swear to it”—here it
occurred to me that Bill Atkins might be useful
for a consideration. “I have only to prove his

decease. It is quite simple.”
182 The Real Anbentures



« Simple!” she ‘repeated, wildly. ‘How can
you prove him dead ”——

“When he’s alive!”” roared Captain Jonathan
Brown himself, marching in and standing before
me, followed, if you please, by my half-brother and
two insignificant persons dressed in seedy black,
while in the doorway behind me stood Will Atkins,
grinning at the scene. Will Atkins always had a
nice sense of humour.

Now I take great credit to myself that on this
occasion I did not mention Sara Gossa and many
other ladies who had a share in the Captain’s
affections. No: I held my tongue. I had madea
mistake, that was all: and from Polly’s first
reception of me I felt perfectly sure my attentions

- were not altogether displeasing to her. Even now

she gave me a glance under her eyelids which
seemed to say, ‘You have dared much for me.
I am not indifferent to your merits.’ And a
second glance said distinctly, “I prefer you to the
Captain.” This satisfied me, and I held my
tongue.

Still, as I noted in my diary at the time, she
of Robinson Crusoe, 183



was not so comely as the Polly I had seen some
years before ; indeed, had I met her for the first time
on this occasion, I do not think I should have
fallen desperately in love with her. Why was she
in widow’s weeds? ‘Will Atkins informed me that
she wore these for her husband who was only
recently deceased. It seems that after Captain
Jonathan Brown’s departure she had married a
Mr. Smith (of Bridleport), and this was what had
made it so difficult for me to obtain any news of
her whereabouts. This, however necessary, is a
digression.

The two seedy-looking men asked me to be
seated at a table, and dictated a form in which I
entirely absolved the Captain from deserting his
owner’s ship, denying the conversation he had with
me in which he made me believe he was a
smuggler, and giving a short account, as far as
possible, of what had become of the cargo, when
Will Atkins stepped forward, and, to my great
relief I must say, signed in full, describing himself
as W. Atkins, M.D., Marine Detective, and pro-

ducing his parchment authority, by virtue of which
184 Che Real Anbentures

he once more took me into custody, and I quitted
Myrtle Cottage in company with him and my half-
brother.

It soon appeared that they had no further design
on my liberty than to take me before a magistrate
and a doctor, from the former of whom they
obtained an order for my detention in William
Robinson’s house, who undertook the charge of
me as a harmless lunatic.

I saw through this design, which was to keep
me under surveillance, so that I could be handed
over to the law at any time they wanted to put me
out of the way; for my half-brother was of an
ungenerous and unchristian spirit, and had never
forgiven me for being my father’s favourite. As
for that trumpery affair of the sovereigns, it was
only on compulsion that I had signed a paper
accusing myself and acquitting him, and this ina
moment of weakness when I was in fear for my life.

What credence would a judge and jury give to
such acharge? None. If Society at Hull would
not associate with William Robinson because he

had been turned out of his father’s house under
of Robinson Crusoe. 185

disgraceful circumstances, I could understand that
my half-brother would be only too glad to have
this proof in his possession so as to meet any
charge that might be brought against him; and
at the same time to hold me in durance, and thus to
prevent my giving a true account of how, when,
and where he became possessed of this document.
As to Will Atkins, he was a useful tool in my half-
brother's hands. I yielded myself calmly to
events, and took up my abode at my brother's
house, where I was under the strictest supervision.

It was now and here that William Robinson and
Will Atkins concocted the Narrative of Robinson
Crusoe, to which I was_ compelled to put my
name, and on this condition alone would they con-
sent to restore me to comparative freedom. ‘This
narrative was received first by the people of Hull,
then by the people of England with admiration and
pleasure: the receipts were enormous, and I had
my share of them with William and Will Atkins.
The name of Robinson with the surname of Crusoe
entirely blotted out the name of Robinson of

Robinson, Bogus and Co., and for a while I
186 The Real Adbentures

was dazzled by the popularity which the con-
spiracy of my sanctimonious half-brother and his
assistant Will Atkins had achieved. They thought
that all this would keep me quiet ; and so it did:
for a time. But why should I share with them
when I could do a true history, a genuine narrative,
on my own account, without any assistance,
receive all the money, unmask their villany, and
punish them for their treachery?

I waited and waited.* At last the opportunity

arrived.

* This may be inferred from the notes in the private diary which
fell into the hands of the eminent firm whose successors in the present gene-
vation have intrusted the work of editing to me.—THE RECORDER, &c.





}
my
Wa

WS

SS :}}

\ ne Pres x

\ VIURSSSIN 1111//

\ NN ae
YN ii. “BP,

1! => i
a7 \\
HANA

Soe IN\\ ZZ




of Robinson Crusoe. 187

CHAPTER XXIII

TREASURE RE-TROVE.



no

fi f i Z aS

: ( mad Bi

5 ae RW ~
Le, == ~

a NEB




“Over a pipe and a glass.”

3. RELIED on Atkins, and I was not
mistaken. One evening, over a pipe
and a glass, I told him that I knew of a large sum

of money which could be had for the seeking.
188 Che Real Adventures

He said he was weary of an inactive life. The
next morning we took a lump sum down from
the publisher as discharge in full of our share in
the receipts of the Narrative,—(the false narrative
written by me under compulsion),—and then going
across the road to a rival publisher's, I entered
into a contract for my forthcoming work, which
should be the true history, and which should blow
the other out of the water. ‘The rival publisher
jumped at it. The terms were mutually satisfac-
tory.* It was to be a secret. Will Atkins knew
nothing of this, as while I was engaged in this busi-
ness on one side of the road with one publisher, he
was engaged with the other publisher in drawing
up a receipt for the money onour joint behalf. This
was the first march I stole upon them. It is so
noted in my private diary. With this large lump
sum down, which the new publishers had paid me
in advance for my copyright, and for which I had
not to account to the suspicious William Robin-
son, or to his ex-myrmidon Atkins, I determined

* T am able to corroborate this statement from inspection of the
document in question. RECORDER.
of Robtuson Crusoe, 189

on a bold stroke. ‘You don’t want to be a mere
bailiff or runner all your life?’’ I said to Atkins.

“Tm tired of serving your half-brother,’ he
replied. ‘I’m willing to serve you.”

“With a writ?” I retorted, playfully. Atkins
loved a joke, and my half-brother was far too
serious and sombre in character for him. ‘Look
here!” I continued, “at present I’m in your cus-
tody ; isn’t that so?”

“Yes, that is so,” replied Atkins. ‘We've got
the charge of you as a harmless kind of lunatic,
and if you ain’t that, I can arrest you on several
criminal charges.”

“All false!” I exclaimed, indignantly.

“That’s just what has’ to be proved,” he re-
turned. ‘“ But a I’m a witness, and as I’ve seen a
lot of you, we won't discuss these nice points, but
come to business. Will it be worth my while to

e
cut the whole concern?

“ Certainly it will,’ I answered, emphatically.

2?



“You want to retire
‘«« Settle down somewhere for the rest of my life,”

he interrupted.
190 The Real: Adventures



“Exactly,” I chimed in heartily, though for my
part I should have liked to see him “settling down”
in five fathoms of sea water, ‘“‘and it doesn’t matter
to you much where it is as long as you’ve a com-
fortable snuggery and a competence.”

“My idea to a nicety!” he cried, enthusiasti-
cally.

“Then,” I said, “trust to me, and if I don’t
manage it for you, clap me in irons, or deliver me
up to the nearest police magistrate. Is ita bargain ?”’

“Tt is!” he returned, clasping my hand, and
from that moment we were sworn friends.

Before two days had expired we had sailed for
Doubloon Island. My half-brother was absent at
the time, and we did not consider it necessary to
leave him any intimation as to our route.

I had two objects in view. The first was to
recover the treasure which I had left in the cave ;
the second was to obtain an interview with the
dark lady between whom and William Robinson I
had witnessed so affectionate a leave-taking.

I pass over the voyage as uneventful. Neither

Will Atkins nor I cared about playing games of
of Robinson Crusoe. 1QI

chance together, and as for the passengers, they
were a poor unenterprising lot.

On arriving at Doubloon Island we could not
but notice the change which a few short years had
made in the place. Colonists of various nation-
alities had already commenced operations, and in
the northern part of the island there were two good
inns, a Spanish and a German, also a market-
place of considerable extent. Of course I directed
my steps southward. It was in vain that I
attempted to shake off Will Atkins. He insisted
on accompanying me everywhere, and had I shown
any indication of unwillingness to carry out my
part of the contract, I was afraid lest he might
produce the legal warrants with which he was
provided, and hand me over to the executive, who
would be only too ready to dispose of me directly
they had obtained the slightest inkling of the
‘true reason for my re-visiting the island. If the
treasure were not already discovered and stolen,
they would never, as I foresaw, allow me to re-
cover what really was mine, or at all events, what

was so far mine, that, with the exception of
192 The Real Adhentures



Jonathan Brown and his employers, there was no
one to put in a claim to it; and even Brown would
have some difficulty in coming into court with
clean hands. But if I offered Atkins to share it
with me, could I trust him to deal fairly by me?
Would he not hand me over to the Doubloonian
police, Spanish, English and German, and claim
the whole sum himself in the name of the British
Government?

On the other hand the. Doubloonians were a
rough-and-ready lot, who wouldn’t stick at a trifle,
and they would think nothing of sticking Will
Atkins for the whole sum, or might execute the
pair of us as a couple of immigrating knaves.
Clearly, then, it was to my interest to confide in
Will Atkins, and it was to his interest to hold his
tongue, and get out of the country with me and

the money as soon as possible.

“ Now,’ said Will Atkins to me, interrupting my
reverie in his brusque fashion, ‘“Where’s the
money you said you were going to give me to

settle down with?”
of Robtnson Crusoe. 193

Then I told him, and as man to man made a
clean breast of it.

“Come on!” he cried, and away we went in
search of the cave.

My memory for localities, always excellent, was

of the greatest service to me at this critical moment.

I found the cave. Rubbish had been shot there,
and it was with the utmost difficulty that we could
remove enough of it to allow any sort of approach
to where I felt certain was the hole in which I had
deposited the ship’s box full of money, valuables,
and various papers.

For one whole night undisturbed we worked.
No result. :

We had left ourtrunks at the Spanish inn on the
northern side, and I had only a small valise with
me, being always particular as to my costume and
cleanliness, though on this occasion I had not
anticipated having to remain longer than one night
in my old diggins.

Will Atkins was disgusted. Weary, thirsty, and
hungry he lost his temper, and began to make rude

oO
194 The Real Adbentures



remarks, and pass observations on my honesty, of
which I refused to take any notice.

“Breakfast we must,’ I said, as cheerily as I could,
and as morning broke I descried a fine log-wood
house which suddenly recalled the appearance of a
kind of palatial residence which my half-brother
had inhabited, and from the door of which the
dark woman with the little child in her arms had
waved her adieux to him.

“By Heaven!” I exclaimed, “this is indeed
providential.”

Will Atkins showed himself reluctant to accom-
pany me, and I was not going to leave him behind
to continue the search in my absence. This
mutual distrust resulted in the most perfect confi-
dence, as we each determined not to lose sight of the
other until we could do so with absolute safety.

Thus agreed, we walked towards the house.

As we approached, the picture of years ago was
almost realized once again, for at the door stood the
dark woman shading her eyes from the sun’s rays
and peering out seawards, while a bright little

quadroon-coloured child was playing on the grass.
of Robinson Crusoe. 195

An inspiration seized me. I hailed her with
“Mrs. William Robinson ahoy!” She started,
and Will Atkins gave a big jump as if he were
going torun. I should have had to run after him.
He knew that, and so walked on quietly with me.

The woman, elegant, and handsome for a two-
third caste, advanced towards us.

«“ Ah!” she exclaimed, “I remember you.” This
was tome. “You sailed away with my husband.”
Husband! my half-brother! “And you I re-
member,’ she added, turning to my companion.
‘“‘ How can I ever forget you?”

“Why?” I asked, puzzled, “what has he done
to earn your gratitude?”

She understood every word, though, when she
spoke, her words were pronounced more in negro
fashion than with a rich Spanish-American accent.

“What?” she returned, “I kiss his reverend
robe.” And down she went and seized Will
Atkins’s hand. I never saw a man so utterly
staggered.

“Reverend robe!” I repeated.

“Well,” says he, sulkily, “I’ve been many trades

02
196° Che Real Adbentures



in my time, and as there wasn’t a parson on this
island, and as a ship’s captain, or, in his absence,
any ship’s officer can act as chaplain for a wedding,
I officiated at the marriage of William Robinson
with Nina Kokonibo. That’s all. Now the
murder’s out.”

It was out with a vengeance!

Nina Kokonibo had a thousand questions to
ask, to which we had as many answers to give.
Atkins was not so ready at invention as myself,
but between us we managed to comfort her, and I
played with her child while she was preparing our
breakfast.

She was apparently well off, with native servants
andafarm. Becoming tired of waiting for William
Robinson, she had, actually, that very morning
been thinking of starting for England to find him,
when we appeared on the scene.

“T have come to fetch you,” said I, and this was
true. I wished I could have added that my half-
brother had sent me, but she supplied this for her- ;
self, and it was only kindness on my part to allow

her to imagine that such was actually the case.
of Robtnson Crusoe. 197



She showed me her marriage lines which Will
Atkins had drawn up and signed. There were also
the “marks ” of some of her tribe who were unable
to write, but who had set their hands to this instru-
ment in token of their intention to do speedy justice
on the man who should dare to trifle with the
affections of Nina Kokonibo. Her kinsmen were
away hunting at this time, but on their return they
would have accompanied her to England and paid
my half-brother a visit. I do not think he would
have been quite pleased.

« Are you ready to start?” I asked her.

“Yes. Now. Me,’ she said, pointing to herself,
“Him,” she added, indicating the child. ‘““We have
not much to take. Only this trunk. It has my
husband’s name onit. I guarded it for him,” and
so saying she showed us the very identical ship’s
chest of which we were in search.

“Now,” said I to Will Atkins, whom I at once
nicknamed Parson Atkins, “now, Parson Atkins,
when you want to give a sermon to your con-
gregation on the existence of a _providential

order of circumstances, you just illustrate it with
198 Che Real Adbentures

this story of the lost treasure and the secret
marriage.”

I explained to Nina, my sister-in-law, that this
box was mine, which at first she was utterly unable
to comprehend. At this juncture Atkins was of
great use to me, as she trusted the Reverend Robe,
and as he swore to everything that I asserted, she
was soon satisfied, and handed over the box to our
safe keeping.

We opened it.

In money, English, French, Spanish and Ger-
man, there was a sum amounting to several hundred
pounds, and, in notes, bills, cheques and letters of
credit, quite fifteen thousand more. I offered to
take the bullion and give him double the amount
in paper.

“You'd better not deprive yourself of such

?

treasures,” observed Parson Atkins, drily. ‘You
might be sorry you had given me some of these
notes for a sermon that I should have to preach to
you.”

On examination I ascertained that his estimate

was correct. Most of the notes, bills and other
of Robinson Crusoe. 199

papers were very old friends of mine. Indeed, my
father’s name was on some of them.

‘“‘T shall burn them,” said I.

“Do so,” replied Atkins. ‘“ And I'll take five
hundred pounds extra as my share. ‘Silence,’ the
Spanish proverb says, ‘is golden.’ ”

As I saw I was in the hands of an unscrupulous
rascal who would not fail to take advantage of my
weak good-nature, I yielded. He had his extra
five hundred in genuine Bank of England notes,
and altogether we shared about eight thousand
pounds between us. There were some trinkets,
which I presented to my sister-in-law Nina, with
which she was much pleased.

Her eldest brother, a fierce-looking warrior, half
Indian, half Spanish bullfighter, returned from hunt-
ing that evening, and expressed a strong wish to
see England and his dear brother-in-law, William
Robinson.

As Nina had plenty of money for the voyage
without encroaching on my supply, I undertook to
conduct them. Parson Atkins had his own private

and peculiar reasons for not wishing to revisit his
200 Che Real Adoentures



native land, and so we, that is Nina, her boy Gil
and Uncle Frajangos armed with his knives and a
pistol in his belt, bade adieu to him, and left him.
sitting on the old sea-chest as we set sail for old
England.

This was the last I ever saw of Will Atkins.
Put it how you will he was a villain, whether hung
or unhung. I do not know, but I can make a

tolerably shrewd guess.



On an old sea-chest.
of Robinson Crusoe. 201

CHAPTER XXIV.

WINDING UP AND STOPPING.

ieee) . WU YL In,
Se fg I,










Usp



Nina and |.
N
which by the way I found my sister-




our homeward voyage,—during

in-law Nina Kokonibo Robinson
uncommonly good company, but her brother rather

troublesome, though we kept him occupied by
202 Che Real Adbentures



setting him to play with my savage little nephew,
Gil Robinson, who was a coloured miniature of his
father, leaving no possible doubt as to the pater-

nity,—we touched at Azuvero Sumtymagoa.

* * * * *

[Recorder's Note.—Here the Real Robinson
seems to have discontinued his narrative, which he
had evidently up to this point compiled mainly
from either full or occasional notes made in his
diary. The story, as he would have put it together
for publication, remained unfinished. But by good
luck his diary, which contained all the material for
the autobiography he had meant to finish, has
been preserved. The dates being vague and some-
times unrecorded, in the exercise of my discretion,
and with the full consent of the legal repre-
sentatives of the ‘“ Robinson-Crusoe interests,” I

have altogether omitted. |

* * * * *

Robinson's Diary. Azuvero Sumtymagoa.—Landed.

One day’s rest here allowed for refreshment.
of Robtuson Crusoe. 203

Strolled about the town. Suddenly confronted by
Spanish lady and dark man. Spanish lady says,
“You are Inglese. You came with Capitano
Jonatano Brouno.” “Years ago-o?”’ says I, enter-
ing into the spirit of the language with wonderful
alacrity. “Si, Sefior,’ she replies. “Yes, sir.
Where he? He leave me to pine—to die! Iam
his wife. Vengeance!” and then she and the dark
gentleman screamed, shrieked, and gesticulated
in such a way as in any northern country would
have caused a crowd to collect, and have ended in
the pair being walked off to the police-station.
Here no one took any notice of the occurrence;
indeed there were several rows equally violent
going on in various corners of the market-'
place.

“ Beautiful Sefiora,” says I, in my best Spanish,
“Tam going to England. I will take you to him.
He dies to see you. Come! The ship awaits us.
Come as you are, and bring your friend.” “He is
the witness of my marriage,’ she tells me. Then
she introduces us. “Enriquez di Villanos y

Villano.” I salute Enriquez, and he me, with
204 The Real Adhentures



the utmost courtesy. Then we three had some
light refreshment together, for which La Senora
Sara Gossa insisted on paying.

On Board.—\ am bringing a happy, hopeful party
over with me to England. This is what I may
term “the Robinson Contingent,’ consisting of
Nina, wife of William Robinson, Gil her son and
my nephew, and Frajangos, her brother, who is
serviceable in many ways. I teach little Gil various
games of cards, and it is a pleasure to see with what
equanimity he loses the halfpennies and the pennies
given him by the kind passengers. I don’t play
with Frajancos, as the untutored savage knows
only one game, and at that he invariably wins.
When, by the merest accident, I happened to win
one game, he became very violent and was for
drawing his knife on me.

Then there’s the “ Brown Contingent,” Senora
Sara Gossa and her witness Enriquez. In the
evening I occasionally manage to get up a round
game, but the Senora prefers playing the castanets,
or flirting with different passengers, and Enriquez

keeps a jealous watch over her. Quite right. He
of Robinson Crusoe.

205

does so as a friend of the Brown family, and in
her husband’s interests. Sara is a nice Sefiora,
and if it were not... well, I am _ susceptible,
* * * Enriquez is a nuisance.

Monday.—Land at last.—Old England for ever!
At least we shall see.. It is four o’clock. William
Robinson, if at home, dines punctually at 6°30.
Brown Contingent installed at hotel, while I
escort the Robinson Contingent to half-brother’s
house. William not at home. Expected in every
minute. New servants here. ‘“ Will we wait?”
We will.

I occupy time in learning all I can about
William’s proceedings. He is highly respected.
He is received everywhere. The book of my life
and adventures has brought zm fame and money.
He is about to contract asplendid marriage. What

a surprise is in store for him!

* : * * * *

Note on returning.—Same evening —He is not
about to contract a splendid marriage. With his

wife, child, and brother-in-law, he sails to-morrow
206 Che Real Adbentures



for Doubloon Island. I offered to manage his
affairs in his absence, but he has preferred to
confide everything to his solicitors and agents. I
have, however, taken on his house and shall re-
main here. To bed, tired with the events of the
day. How admirable is the moral, “Do as you'd
be done by.” Ah! if my brother had only acted
upon this, he wouldn’t have made such a fool of
himself, nor would he have been compelled to
sacrifice his social position in his own country. I
believe he will go in search of Will Atkins. Thus
disappear the enemies of John Robinson Crusoe!
Magna est veritas !

Next Day.—They have gone! In my absence the
Brown Contingent left the hotel. I explain to the
landlord that I am not responsible for the debts of
another man’s wife. “Can I direct him to her
husband?” Certainly I can. Does he know
Captain Jonathan Brown? He does. Well if he
calls on him, he will, I hope, get the account
settled. He need not mention my name. * * *
Later in day landlord appears. Very grateful. The
Captain has paid Sara Gossa’s hotel-bill. Ifso, he
of Robinson Crusoe, 207

must have acknowledged Sara. Equally if so,
he must have disavowed Polly. Pretty Polly!
Some years ago, I might have replaced the
Captain with pleasure, but now, that is all
past and gone, and to-day I recommence my
life. I mean, I shall now write my real
autobiography.

I leave the hotel, and take up my residence in
my half-brother’s house.

Two Days after the above.-—Comfortable. Publisher
called to see me on subject of real autobiography.
He expected that having had a sum on account
I should have already commenced work. I pointed
out that I had been collecting material. ‘The
more material I can collect the better for the
work,” I said, and then suggested another small
advance. He will call again. I shall show him a
mass of notes and the voluminous raw material
which has to be cooked.

Saturday.—Difficulty. Lady announced. Enters
to me Polly Newport, ex-wife of that Lothario
Captain Jonathan Brown. She was in a towering

passion, and was accompanied by a sharp attorney
208 The Real Adbentures



whom she introduced as her uncle. She denounced
me violently as having ruined her happiness.
I assured her she was in error, that my course of
proceeding had been taken entirely in her interest,
and hers only. “You know,” I reminded her,
“with what a tender regard you inspired me when
we first met.”’ She is considerably changed now;
in fact, I should scarcely have recognised her.
“But, alas, you were another's, and that other was
my friend.”

«« Stuff and nonsense!’’ says she.

“Be calm, Mary,’ says her uncle, taking a
pinch of snuff. Then turning to me, he takes a
slip of paper from his pocket-book and asks me
“Ts this your signature?”

“Very like it,’ I replied, guardedly.

“Listen,” says he, and he reads aloud, “‘ Dearest,
when you are free I will marry you. I swear it.
Yours eternally, J. ROBINSON CRUSOE.’”’

“Tt is his. I saw him write it,” cries Polly,
“and he gave me the slip with his own hand.”

Heavens! how I wished I could have given her

the slip now. Too late!
of Robinson Crusoe. 209



It had quite slipped my memory. But it
came back—the whole scene returned, and was
flashed before my mind’s eye vividly, clearly,
plainly.

Ah! youth! folly! rash impulse! But I was
not the man to go back from my plighted vow.

“You are not free,” I said.

“She is,” answered her uncle, nodding quietly,
as if he were going to sleep; “the Captain
made the settlements yesterday, in conformity with
the will to which you were a witness on board
ship, and which I may compliment you upon as
drawn with considerable legal skill.” I bowed, and
her worthy uncle continued, “The Captain was
to have married her to-morrow, when, to my
niece’s astonishment and disgust, a Spanish lady
appeared on the scene. Her proofs were incon-
testable. One of her witnesses was at hand,” here
the old man coughed slightly.

“Captain Jonathan had taken some years in
making up his mind to marry me,” said Miss
Newport, “and had I only known what I know

a2

now-——
210 Che Real Adhentures

“Well, well,” interposed her uncle, deprecating -
any display of temper, “the Captain has done the
best he could. Sooner than makea public scandal,
he settled on Mary a sum well within his means,”
—I glanced at Polly who had moved towards the
window, and now seeing her in a different light,
I must say I thought her still handsome, only a
little stouter,—“and, with his foreign wife and her
brother, he has left the country, having first con-
doned for the injury done to my niece’s unblem-
ished reputation.” i

“The Captain has acted well and wisely,” I said.
“But if I were to offer my hand now, you would
think it was for your wealth and not for your heart
alone.”

“Tf you do not offer your hand, and come off at
once for a special licence,” says Polly, putting
her arms a-kimbo, and looking, I am bound to say,
handsomer than ever—for I am sure time has im-
proved her—“then—we bring an action against
you for breach of promise.”

“Quite so,” said the lawyer, nodding placidly.

* * â„¢* * *
of Robtnson Crusoe. 211

End of first Week at home.—We were married
quietly three days ago, and are living in William’s
house.

The Captain’s settlement was conceived in a
generous spirit, but on inspection it was found
that he had nothing to settle except bills, and
these still remain, like the variable weather of
England, in an unsettled state. He had bestowed
on his Sara a trifle of ready money, but how much
I am unable to say, as it never came into my

hands.

I haven’t much opportunity of keeping a diary.
Polly is so suspicious. She was under the impres-
sion that I had realised a considerable sum. But
taking one thing with another (which has been my
rule through life) I find Iam not so well off as she
thought. I should be better off if I could leave the
country. The climate does not agree with me. I
must go away to some quiet place, quite alone, in
order to write my autobiography. My publisher
agrees. My wife doesn’t. No more does her

P2
212 The Real Adbentures

uncle, the sharp attorney. The rover Robinson

is fettered.

Sixth Week.—And this is Polly!!.... Whata
temper! She accuses me of neglecting her because,
forsooth, I am compelled to go about a great deal
in search of material. Perhaps one day she will
understand me and do me justice. May that day
soon arrive !

To-day —I1 came home late after collecting
materials. She upbraided me. Iremonstrated. It
is absurd to dwell on what happened. I shall take
my own course, as I have before, and succeeded.
Farewell, Old England, I shall retire and finish my

reminiscences in more congenial climes.

She has saved me the trouble. She has gone.
Alone? I shallsee. I have placed the matter in
the hands of her uncle, who is now entirely on my
side. He tells me that his niece was light-headed,
and has been probably enticed away by a very —
.

of Robtnson Crusoe. 212





wealthy and unprincipled schemer. If so he shall
pay dearly for this. The villain! Polly’s uncle
says I may fairly estimate her loss at £5,000 and
costs. If so her absence will indeed make my
heart grow fonder. The law is slow, and perhaps
a compromise may be effected for £5,000 down
and no costs.

In the meantime, as I cannot be distracted by
such matters, I shall get on with the true history
of The Real Robinson, of which the main object will
be to show of how vile a conspiracy I was the
victim, and to exhibit the real blackness of the so-

called Friday’s character.

* * * * *

Last Entry—Effected compromise at a reduced
figure and left the country without mentioning the
fact to Polly’s uncle. Shall write to him from a
distance. And now all I ask for is tranquillity.
I forgive my enemies.

May they forget me!

I have nothing on my conscience with which

I can reproach myself. This may be accounted
214 Robinson Crusoe.

for, by the maliciously disposed, in more ways
than one.

Farewell !

My native land, Good-night !








SS

MMe =






~



Sy

=
SS
Ls \ cS
N \) SS

7 HW

Se eg



QW

\
ee
=

-_oâ„¢~-

a. Mes

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & co. LD., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS
A SELECTION

‘FROM THE

ILLUSTRATED AND OTHER WORKS

Published by

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD.

8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE ST., LONDON, E.C.
UNIFORM WITH
‘‘THE REAL ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE.”

THE NEW “HISTORY OF

SANDFORD AND
By F. C. BURNAND M ER al ON.

Author of ‘Happy Thoughts,” ‘The Real Adventures of
Robinson Crusoe,” &c.



A New Edition containing all the 77 Drawings originally made for it by
Linney SaMBournE.

In Crown 8vo, price 3s. 6d.

SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

‘* Inimitable and irresistible.” — Times.
“* Delightful fun.”— Guardian.
*¢ Full of rollicking fun throughout.”—Morning Post.



OTHER WORKS BY F. C. BURNAND.

ABOUT BUYING A HORSE. ‘Small 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d.
AIREY ANNIE (A Travestie). Crown 8vo, price 6d.
CHIKKIN HAZARD. 12mo, price 1s.

FAUST AND LOOSE. Crown 8vo, price 1s.

GONE WRONG. 12mg, price 1s.

HAPPY THOUGHTS BIRTHDAY BOOK. Royal l6mo. Profusely
Illustrated, and with portrait of F. C. Burnanp, price 3s. 6d.

ONE-AND-THREE. 12mo, price 1s.

ROUND ABOUT MY GARDEN. Small 8vo, cloth, price 2s. 6d.
STRAPMORE. 12mo, price 1s.

WHAT’S THE ODDS? 12mo, price 1s.

INCOMPLEAT ANGLER, The. [Illustrated by Harry Furniss.
Extra large crown 8yvo, price 1s. sewed ; or 2s. 6d. cloth lettered.

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp., 8, 9,10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.
By the Author of ‘‘HAPPY THOUGHTS.”

SELECTED UNIFORM ILLUSTRATED

EDITION OF

F. C. BURNAND’s
WRITINGS.







FROM. «© PUL PUNCH.” ”

VOLUMES ALREADY PUBLISHED:

1 VERY MUCH ABROAD.
2 RATHER AT SEA,

8. ee AT HOME,

4, HAPPY THOUGHT 8,

6. SOME OLD FRIENDS.

“Mr. Burnand’s Writings are well worth collecting. He has pro-
duced a very large body of comic writing of a high order of merit, and
the amount of it that is first-rate is considerable, There is a perpetual
gaiety and airiness about his work which makes it always pleasant to
dip into, and few humorists have the power of making their readers
laugh so agreeably, so innocently, so often, and so much.”—A thenenm.

Price 5s. each, Maree Crown 8vo, gilt top.

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C,
MR. PUNCH’S
WITH INTRODUCTIONS, REMARKS, AND STAGE-DIRECTIONS.
By F. ANSTEY, Author of ‘Vice Versa,” &c.



Reprinted from “PuncH” with Additions, and with 34 “Puncn” Illustrations.
In Crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d.

‘Very well written, and any modern humorist might be proud of
them.”—Athenceum.



MR. PUNCH’S

MODEL MUSIC-HALL

SONGS AND DRAMAS.

By F. ANSTEY, Author of ‘‘Mr. Punch’s Young Reciter.”



Collecied, Improved, and Re-arranged from ‘‘ Puncu,” with 13 full-page and
a number of other Illustrations.

In Crown 8vo, cloth, price 4s. 6d.
“This volume has caused us more laughter than anything else Mr. Anstey

has written since ‘Vice Versa.’ Some of the songs and dances are
screamingly funny.” —Leview of Reviews.

MR. PUNCH’S

PRIZE NOVELS.

By R. C. LEHMANN





With 24 Illustrations by Epwarp REEp.
In Crown 8vo, cloth, price 4s. 6d.

‘Some things here reprinted are nearly of the best of their kind. We
should not like to take the authors’ opinions, for your author almost always
laughs on the wrong side of his mouth at caricatures of his work. But if the
authors do not like “it, their readers will ; and even of the authors themselves
we may trust that some will see the joke.’ ’—Manchester Guardian.



BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO, Ly. 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E,C.
GEORGE DU MAURIER’S Pictures from “ PUNCH.”
SOCIETY PICTURES.

From: “PUNCH.”

In Two handsome Royal Quarto volumes, bound with Leather
back, Cloth sides, price 12s. each.



Also in Four Parts, Extra Cloth, price 5s. 6d. each.

“There could surely be no more delightful volume for a drawing-room
table than these ‘Socizry Picrurss,’ with their genial satire, their fancy,
grace, refinement,—and all the other piquant and exquisite qualities one
a, with the men and women of Du Maunirr’s creation.””—Glasgow

erald.

PICTURES OF LIFE AND CHARACTER.

JOHN LEECH’S PICTURES.
From “PUNCH.”

In 3 Volumes, price 10s. 6d. each, or in One Volume, price 28s.



‘The genius of Leech has never been seen to greater advantage than in
this gallery.”—Morning Post.

“We doubt whether in the whole range of the literary or pictorial art of
the period, the earlier portion of the Victorian era has heen elsewhere so
vigorously, so truthfully, as well as so humorously portrayed as in JoHN
L&EEcH's inimitable pictures. The series has an importance beyond the amuse-
ment of the moment—it serves both to commemorate the genius of the artist
and the character of the age.”—County Gentleman.



PICTURES OF OUR PEOPLE.

CHARLES KEENE’S

From “PUNCH.” PICT RES.

Super-royal 4to, extra cloth, price 21s.



‘‘ His caricatures are a gallery of pictures of English Life. . . . They have
enlivened the surface of English existence for a whole generation.” —Zimes.

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.
MR. PUNCH'’S
VICTORIAN ERA





AN ILLUSTRATED CHRONICLE

OF
FIFTY YEARS OF. THE REIGN

OF
Her Majesty the Queen,
PICTORIALLY ARRANGED WITH ANNALS OF THE TIME

FROM THE CONTEMPORARY PAGES OF
“ PUNCH,”

Including 1000 large Cartoons.

‘\ A pictorial key to the history of the Queen's reign.” —Pall Mall Gazette.

‘There can be no better book for a drawing-room table, to suggest subjects
of talk. The arts of engraving have made rapid progress since these pictures
first appeared, but it would be hard to surpass the pregnant humour of the
more famous of the political cartoons. They put the points on all the critical
periods of our Parliamentary history, and indicate in effective outline the
action of political celebrities.” —Times.

‘It is surprising to find how complete a history of the times they present :
in vivid form ; and a history which is not confined to political events,
but which catches and stereotypes many of the evanescent phases of popular
fashion and opinion, which could hardly be preserved in any other way.”—
Guardian.

“This chronicle must have a place amongst standard books of reference.” —
Spectator.

In 3 Volumes, Royal Quarto, elegant, price £2 2s.



BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.
THE COUNTRY GENTLEMAN’S LIBRARY EDITION.

Embellished with nearly 1000 of Joun Lrxrcu’s best Sketches on Wood, and
100 Hand-coloured Steel Engravings by Joun Lercu and H. K. Brownz
In six medium 8vo volumes, large margin, cloth extra, price £4 4s.; and in
half morocco, with panelled hunting adornments, gilt and finished, price £5 12s. 6d.

“HANDLEY CROSS” SERIES OF
SPORTING NOVELS.

Tus inimitable series of volumes is absolutely unique, there being nothing
approaching to them in all the wide range of modern or ancient literature. Written
by Mr. Surtees, a well-known country gentleman, who was passionately devoted to
the healthy sport of fox-hunting, and gifted with a keen spirit of manly humour of
a Rabelaisian tinge, they abound with incidents redolent of mirth and jollity. The
artist, Mr. Leech, was himself also an enthusiast in the sport, and has reflected
in his illustrations, with instinctive appreciation, the rollicking abandon of the
author’s stories.

These volumes can be had separately as under :—
HANDLEY CROSS; or, Mr. | PLAIN OR RINGLETS? Many

Jorrocks’s Hunt. Many Sketches on | Sketches on Wood, and 13 Steel En-

Wood, and 17 Steel Engravings. Price gravings. Price 143,

108 | MR. FACEY ROMFORD’S
ASK MAMMA; or, The Richest | HOUNDS. 24Steel Engravings. Price

Commoner in’ England. Many 14s.

Sketches on Wood, and 13 Steel En-

Sonn ney | HAWBUCK GRANGE ; or, The

| porting ventures of Thomas

SPONGE’S SPORTING TOUR. | Scott, Esquire. With 8 Steel En-

Many Sketches on Wood, and 13 Steel gravings by H. K. Browne (Phiz).

Engravings. Price 14s. | Price 12s. 6d.

Under the title of the
‘“JORROCKS” EDITION

A Curav Issup OF THE
‘“HANDLEY CROSS”
SPORTING NOVELS

has been published. Each volume is com-
plete, and contains a selection from
EDITION. Joun Lnecn’s Illustrations (some of
them printed on toned paper), and One
Hanp-CoLourep Steel Engraving as
Frontispiece. The Volumes are bound
very handsomely in cloth, and published
price 6s, each; HANDLEY Cross being
7s. 6d., and Hawsuck GRANGE, 4s, 67.

THE

*Porrocks ”



BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.¢,
THE HANDY-VOLUME

SHAKSPEARE.

HIS choice Miniature Edition of ‘‘Shakspeare” is in 13 Vols.,
32mo size, and contains the whole of the Plays, the Poems,
and a Glossary. The volumes are printed on a slightly toned
paper of fine quality, with a new, clear, and elegant type, on a
page free from Notes—and the Text has been arranged from
a close comparison of the most trustworthy editions. Nothing
could be prettier than this Diamond Edition. The paper is toned,
the type is exquisitely beautiful, the text is Shakspeare, pur et
simple. It is, besides all these, a very marvel of cheapness, as
the result of a happy thought most charmingly realised.







IN ELEGANT BINDINGS.

Fine Cloth, limp, red edges, in a neat cloth case . . price > 1 a
In French Morocco, gilt edges, in an elegant leather case __,, EU:
In Vellum and Gold, gilt edges, with best morocco case. ,, 2 12
In the best Red Russia, limp, gilt edges, in case to
match, with lock . 5 : 5 . é » 3815 0

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & Co. Lp., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.
THE HANDY-VOLUM
SCOTT.

(NOVELS.) COMPLETE (POEMS.)

ONTAINING all the Wavertey Novets, and a complete collec-
tion of Sir Watrer Scorr’s Porrry, making 32 elegant little
volumes of high external finish, enclosed in an artistic case, measuring
only 94 inches in width, 10} inches in height, and 33 inches in depth.











PRICES.

£
In “Case,” Crimson Cloth, extra gilt . : : “8
French Morocco 4

THE HANDY-VOLUME

WAVERLEY.



25 Elegant little Volumes, each containing a Complete Novel.

BINDINGS AND PRICES.

£s. d.
Crimson cloth, coloured edges, in elegant case. . . price2 5 0
French Morocco, extra gilt, gilt edges, in similar case 313 6

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.
BY GILBERT ABBOTT A’BECKETT.
THE COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By the late Gizperr

Aspott A’BECKETT. Illustrated with Woodcuts and Coloured Etchings by the
late Joun Leecu. Demy Svo, cloth gilt, price 12s.

THE COMIC HISTORY OF ROME. _ Uniform with the Comic
History of England. By the late G. A. A’Becxerr. Illustrated by the late Jonn
Lrecu. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, price 7s. 6d.

THE COMIC BLACKSTONE. Revised by A. W. A’Becxetr. With
10 full-page Coloured Plates and a variety of Illustrations in the Text by Harry
Furniss. Demy 8vo, price 12s. 6d.

BY GEORGE DU MAURIER.
ENGLISH SOCIETY AT HOME. ‘Society ” Pictures from ‘‘ PuncH.”

India Paper proofs mounted. Super royal quarto, cloth elegant, prive £2 2s,

SOCIETY PICTURES. From ‘‘Puncu.”’ 2 vols, royal quarto, half

bound, price 12s. each ; and in 4 parts, price 5s. 6d. each, cloth.

BY G. D. LESLIE, R.A.

OUR RIVER. Personal reminiscences of an Artist’s life on tlie River
Thames. With 50 Original Drawings by the Author, and others by F. WaLkeEr,
A.R.A., H. 8. Marks, R.A., B. Rivifre, R.A. Demy 8vo, price 12s. 6d.

LINLEY SAMBOURNE’S ILLUSTRATIONS.
AUTUMN HOLIDAY ON FRENCH RIVERS (Our). By J. L.

Motioy. With upwards of 50 Illustrations by Lintey SaMBouRNE. Crown Svo,
price 7s. 6d.

OUR HOLIDAY IN THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS. By Artuur
A’BecKeETT, with Photo-lithographed Drawings by LinLtey SamBourNne. Oblong
folio, price 21s.

CARTOONS FROM ‘‘ PUNCH.’’
BEACONSFIELD (Ear or, K.G.). In upwards of 100 Cartoons from

the Collection of Mr. Puncu. Enlarged Edition. Price 2s. 6d. in wrapper ; 5s. in
cloth, gilt edges. :
GLADSTONE (Tne Rr. Hon. W. F.). Cartoons from the Collection of

Mr. Puncu. Price 1s. in wrapper ; 2s. 6d. in cloth, gilt edges.

BRIGHT (Tue Rr. Hoy. Jonny). Cartoons from the Collection of

Mr. -Punen. Price 1s. in wrapper ; 2s. 6d. in cloth, gilt edges.

BY DOUGLAS JERROLD.
WORKS—COLLECTED EDITION. With Life. Frontispieces by

Joun Leecu, In 5 vols., cloth, price 6s. each ; and in Half-Calf, price 45s.

s
MRS. CAUDLE’S CURTAIN LECTURES. Fine edition. Illus-
trated by CHartEs Keene. Small 4to, price 10s. 6d. c
Crown Edition. Small 8vo, cloth, with Illustrations, price 2s. 6d.
Copyright Edition. Large crown Syo, in wrapper, price 1s.
THE STORY OF A FEATHER. Small 4to. Illustrated, price 10s. 6d.

Crown Syvo, with Ilustrations, price 2s. 6d,

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. Lp., 8, 9, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, F.C.




Pie
Ee
x: a 5 Ete F Sl

4 ance