ROBINSON CRUSOE,Jr.I.
ROBINSON CRUSOE,Jr.
Robert Graywas a Riverdale boy, and a very smart one too. Very likely most of my readers will think he was altogether too smart for his years, when they have read the story I have to tell about him.
Robert was generally a very good boy, but, like a great many persons who are older and ought to be wiser than he was, he would sometimes get very queer notions into his head, which made him act very strangely.
He was born on the Fourth of July, which may be the reason why he was so smart, though I do not think it was. He could make boxes andcarts, windmills and water-wheels, and ever so many other things.
Behind his father’s house there was a little brook, flowing into the river. In this stream Robert had built a dam, and put up a water-wheel, which kept turning day and night till a freshet came and swept it into the river.
His father was a carpenter,and Robert spent a great part of his leisure hours in the shop, inventing or constructing queer machines, of which no one but himself knew the use; and I am not sure that he always knew himself.
On his birthday, when Robert was eleven years old, his oldest brother, who lived in Boston, sent him a copy of Robinson Crusoe as a birthday present. Almost everychild reads this book, and I suppose there is not another book in the world which children like to read so well as this.
It is the story of a man who was wrecked on an island, far away from the main land, and on which no human being lived. The book tells how Robinson Crusoe lived on the island, what he had to eat, and how he obtained it; howhe built a boat, and could not get it into the water, and then built another, and did get it into the water; about his dog and goats, his cat and his parrots, and his Man Friday.
The poor man lived alone for a long time, and most of us would think he could not have been very happy, away from his country and friends, with no one to speak to but his cat and goats, and his ManFriday, and none of them could understand him.
Robert Gray didn’t think so. He read the book through in two or three days after he received it, and thought Robinson Crusoe must have had a nice time of it with his cat and his goats, and his Man Friday.
He was even silly enough to wish himself on a lonely island, away from his fatherand mother. He thought he should be happy there in building his house, and roaming over his island in search of food, and in sailing on the sea, fishing, and hunting for shell fish.
Then he read the book through again, and the more he read the more he thought Crusoe was a great man, and the more he wished to be like him, and to live on anisland far away from other people.
“Have you read Robinson Crusoe?” said Robert Gray to Frank Lee, as they were walking home from school one day.
“Yes, three times,” replied Frank; and his eyes sparkled as he thought of the pleasure which the book had afforded him.
“Well, I’ve read it twice,and I think it is a first-rate book.”
“So do I; and I mean to read it again some time.”
“How should you like to live like Robinson Crusoe, all alone on an island by yourself?” asked Robert, very gravely.
“Well, I don’t know as I should like it overmuch. I should want some of Jenny’s doughnuts and apple pies.”
“Pooh! who cares for them?” said Robert, with a sneer.
“I do, for one.”
“Well, I don’t. I would just as lief have oysters and cocoanuts, fish and grapes, and such things.”
“Without any butter, or sugar, or molasses?”
“I could get along without them.”
“Then there would be greatstorms, and you would get wet and be cold.”
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
“Suppose you should be sick—have the measles, the hooping-cough, or the scarlet fever? Who would take care of you then?”
“I would take care of myself.”
“Perhaps you could; but I think you would wish your mother was on the island withyou in that case,” said Frank, with a laugh.
“I don’t believe I should; at any rate, I should like to try it.”
“It is all very pretty to read about, but I don’t believe I should like to try it. What would you do, Robert, when the Indians came to the island?”
“I would do just as Robinson Crusoe did. I wouldshoot as many of them as I could. I would catch one of them, and make him be my Man Friday.”
“Suppose they should happen to shoot you instead; and then broil you for their supper? Don’t you think you would ‘make a dainty dish to set before the king’?”
“I am certain that I could get along just as well as Robinson Crusoe did.”
“Perhaps not; every one don’t get out of a scrape as easily as Robinson Crusoe did. I know one thing—I shall not go on any desolate island to live as long as I can help it.”
“I think I should have a first-rate time on one,” said Robert, as he turned down the street which led to his father’s house.
The next week the longsummer vacation began, and Robert read Robinson Crusoe through again from beginning to end. He spent almost all his time in thinking about the man alone on the island; and I dare say he very often dreamed about the goats, the cat, the parrot, and Man Friday.
He used to lie for hours together under the great elm tree behind the house fancyingwhat a famous Crusoe he would make; and wishing he could be cast away upon a lonely island, and there live in a cave, with a cat and a parrot.
It was certainly very silly of him to spend the greater part of his time in dreaming about such things, when he ought to have been thankful for his comfortable and pleasant home, and the companyof his parents, and his brothers and sisters, and for all the good things which God had given him.