Crusoe's Island: A Ramble in the Footsteps of Alexander Selkirk. Browne John Ross

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СКАЧАТЬ BETWEEN ABRAHAM AND THE DOUBTER

      Every one of us, except the man that had no faith in Robinson Crusoe, admitted that the tea was the best ever produced in China or any where else; that the fried kid was perfectly delicious; that the fish were the fattest and tenderest ever fished out of the sea; that the biscuit tasted a thousand times better than the biscuit we had on board ship; that the whole house and all about it were wonderfully well arranged for comfort; and that Pearce, after all, was the jolliest old brick of a Crusoe ever found upon a desolate island.

      In fine, we came to the conclusion that it was a glorious life, calculated to enlarge a man's soul; an independent life; a perfect Utopia in its way. "Let us," said we, "spend the remainder of our days here! Who cares about the gold of Ophir, when he can live like a king on this island, and be richer and happier than Solomon in his temple!"

      "You'd soon be tired of it," muttered a voice from a dark corner: it was the voice of the Doubter. "You wouldn't be here a month till you'd give the eyes out of your heads to get away."

      "Where's that man?" cried several of us, fiercely.

      "I'm here – here in the corner, gentlemen, rayther troubled with fleas."

      "You'd better turn in and go to sleep."

      "I can't sleep. Nobody can sleep here. I've tried it long enough. I reckon the fleas will eat us all up by morning, and leave nothing but the hair of our heads. I doubt if they'll leave that."

      "Was there ever such a man? Why, you do nothing but throw cold water on every body."

      "No I don't; it comes through the roof. It's as much as I can do to keep clear of it myself, without throwin' it on other people." With this we let him alone.

      The fire now blazed cheerfully, sending its ruddy glow through the cabin. A rude earthen lamp, that hung from one of the rafters, also shed its cheerful light upon us as we sat in a circle round the crackling fagots; and altogether our rustic quarters looked very lively and pleasant. Every face beamed with good-humor. Even the face of the Doubter belied his croaking remarks, and glowed with unwonted enthusiasm. Little Jim Paxton, the whaler, under the inspiration of the tea, which was uncommonly strong, volunteered a song; and the cries of bravo being general, he gave us, in true sailor style,

      "I'm monarch of all I survey,

      My right there is none to dispute;

      From the centre all round to the sea,

      I'm lord of the fowl and the brute!

      Oh Solitude where are the charms," &c.

      This was so enthusiastically applauded, that my friend Abraham, whose passion for all sorts of curiosities had led him to explore musty old books as well as musty old caves for odds and ends, now rose on his goatskin, and said that, with permission of the company, he would attempt something which he considered peculiarly appropriate to the occasion. He was not much of a singer, but he hoped the interest attached to the words would be a sufficient compensation for all the deficiencies of voice and style.

      "Go ahead, Abraham!" cried every body, greatly interested by these remarks. "Let us have the song! Out with it!"

      "First," said Abraham, clearing his voice, "I beg leave to state, for the benefit of all who may not be familiar with the fact, that this is no vulgar or commonplace song, as many people suppose who sing it. On the contrary, it may be regarded as a classical production. Among the many effusions to which the popularity of Robinson Crusoe gave rise, none was a greater favorite in its day than the song which I am about to attempt. It has been customary to introduce it in the character of Jerry Sneak, in Foote's celebrated farce, the Mayor of Garratt. As the words are now nearly forgotten, I hope you'll not consider it tiresome if I go through to the end. Join in the chorus, gentlemen!"

POOR ROBINSON CRUSOE

      "When I was a lad, my fortune was bad,

      My grandfather I did lose O;

      I'll bet you a can, you've heard of the man,

      His name it was Robinson Crusoe.

      Oh! poor Robinson Crusoe,

      Tinky ting tang, tinky ting tang,

      Oh! poor Robinson Crusoe.

      "You've read in a book of a voyage he took,

      While the raging whirlwinds blew, so

      That the ship with a shock fell plump on a rock,

      Near drowning poor Robinson Crusoe.

      Oh! poor, &c.

      "Poor soul! none but he escaped on the sea.

      Ah, Fate! Fate! how could you do so?

      'Till at length he was thrown on an island unknown,

      Which received poor Robinson Crusoe."

      "Here, gentlemen, I beg you to take notice that we are now, in all probability, on the very spot. I have the strongest reasons for supposing that the castle of our excellent host, in which we are at this moment enjoying the flow of soul and the feast of reason, is built upon the identical site occupied in former times by the castle of the remarkable adventurer in whose honor this song was composed. But to proceed —

      "Tinky ting tang, tinky ting tang,

      Oh! poor Robinson Crusoe.

      "But he saved from on board a gun and a sword,

      And another old matter or two, so

      That by dint of his thrift, he managed to shift

      Pretty well, for poor Robinson Crusoe.

      Oh! poor, &c.

      "He wanted something to eat, and couldn't get meat,

      The cattle away from him flew, so

      That but for his gun he'd been sorely undone,

      And starved would poor Robinson Crusoe.

      Oh! poor, &c.

      "And he happened to save from the merciless wave

      A poor parrot, I assure you 'tis true, so

      That when he came home, from a wearisome roam,

      Used to cry out, Poor Robinson Crusoe.

      Oh! poor, &c.

      "Then he got all the wood that ever he could,

      And stuck it together with glue, so

      That he made him a hut, in which he might put

      The carcass of Robinson Crusoe."

      "Hold on there! hold on!" cried a voice, in a high state of excitement. Every body turned to see who it was that dared to interrupt so inspiring a song. Immediately the indignant gaze was fixed upon the face of the Doubter, who, with outstretched neck, was peering at Abraham from his dark corner. "Excuse me, gentlemen," said he, "but I want some information on that point. Did you mean to say, sir, that he, Robinson Crusoe, stuck the wood together with glue when he built his house? with glue, did you say?"

      "So the song goes," said Abraham, a little confused, not to say irritated. "Doubtless the words are used in a metaphorical sense. There is every reason to believe that this is a mere poetical license; but it doesn't alter the general accuracy of the history. For my own part, I am disposed to think that the house was built very much upon the same principles as that of our friend Pearce; in fact, that it was precisely such an establishment as we at present occupy."

      "Go on, sir – go on; I'm perfectly satisfied," muttered the Doubter; "the whole thing hangs together by means of glue; every part of it is connected with the same material!"

      Abraham СКАЧАТЬ