Punch: Punch (11.1846)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

55

THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF

MISS ROBINSON CRUSOE.

CHAPTER VI.

the sun being at the time—perhaps two hundred in the shade, may, in
the words of a great public writer, " be more easily conceived thai;
described."

Being as well dressed as my dreadful circumstances would permit,
I felt that I might venture out. As, however, the country might be
inhabited—(my heart beat thicker at the thought)—I felt it necessary
to be prepared for the worst. For what I knew, it might be an island
not far from Constantinople, and—the pure blood of a free-born
English maiden burned in my veins—I would prefer death to the
captivity of the Harem, or (according to the last. editions) Hareem.
At the thought, I remembered that I had been suckled at the same
breast with the British Lion, and knew the proper moment when—to
die !

My sister readers—and these pages are written, for them alone—
cannot therefore but applaud my resolution when I inform them that

ince that beautiful looking-glass was gone for
ever,—for never having learned to dive, it was
impossible that I could hope to recover it—I
still had hope. I remembered the number of
lady passengers we had brought out, and felt
comforted. There must be, I thought, twenty

more looking-glasses in the wreck ; though not 1 took with me (Placmg them like sleepmg vipers in my bosom) my

1 pair of scissors, and in my right hand (my left carried my parasol)
one of the captain's pistols. If the country was not inhabited by
Hottentots or Hindoos—I always had a horror of a black skin,
whereas there is something romantic in the true olive—there might
be lions and tigers, leopards and crocodiles.

I therefore began my morning walk, never once turning round,
though now and then—how deceitful is fancy !—I thought I heard
si?" In what corner'of "the" earth?' It could 1 footstePs following me. They might be men: but even then the
^ not be Peru, for I saw not a morsel of gold upon i lessons of m7 dear mother were not forgotten—I never looked behind
the beach; it was not one of the Spice Islands, for not a single nutmeg j ™t;JLtli?ped. . * ^t^r^l. ^^°^l7 }?W^S ^yP^?}
was to be seen upon any of the trees. Was it the Canaries ?—flights

such a love as the mirror I had lost.

Having pushed my raft as far near the land
as possible, I fastened it with a string to a large
stone, believing that, as the tide went down, the
raft would be left upon the shore. I had not
calculated falsely. So it happened. My next
work, however, was to look about me. Where

of birds flew past me ; but they flew so high, it was impossible for me

I began to ascend a hill, I should say quite as high as Highgate.
Arrived at the top, I turned round and round, and wherever I turned

after all, learned something of geography. I knew I was upon an
island.

Was it inhabited ? There was a beautiful double opera-glass in

to discern if there were any canaries among them. And here—I a™™}}^s_}n} ^^J^I?1 L^-™* r^^J^^JJ?^
must confess it—I felt some anger towards the respected principals of
my Blackheath Boarding School. I have said that I was nominally
taught the Use of the Globes ; my learning was down in the bill, and
paid for every quarter. I had been taught to talk about California ! the box 1 had °Pened- Why had I not brought it with me ? If
and Behring's Straits, and the Euxine and Patagonia, as if they were ! habited, I might have beheld the smoke of chimneys ; the dancing,
all so many old acquaintance ; and yet I knew not if at that moment j perhaps—what mdecorous, what different dancing to the aerial
I might not be upon some of them. And then I sighed, and felt that! movements of Her Majesty's Theatre—of the benighted savages
it isn't for a young lady to know anything of the world, because she No : xt was Plam 1 was Alone ! M? eye rested uPon m>

sits with the Globe in her hand two hours a day. And I felt too
that if I ever should have a daughter—and how my eyes did sadly
wander about that uninhabited tract—I should not conclude that she
knew anything of geography, because I had paid for it.

However, I was resolved to look about me, and explore the country.
Whereupon, I waded into the water, and removed one of the light
trunks, and one of the bonnet-boxes. Of course, I could not go out

plain I was alone. Alone ! My eye rested upon my
sprigged muslin—my feelings flew back to my white chip—and I
wept.

I descended the hill ; and at the bottom, that was skirted with
some thick bushes, I heard a noise. In a moment, and with a courage
that at any other time I should have thought it impossible for me to
possess, I turned my head aside, and presenting my pistol, fired.
Something, with a heavy bump, fell a few yards from me. Before I

without first dressing myself. My mortification was very great, though i ventured to look, I asked myself—" Is it a tiger ?—is it an eagle ? " I

very foolish—for what could I have expected?—to find the box locked,
Fortunately, it was a hasp lock; I therefore sat down upon the beach,
and with a large stone hammered away until I had broken it. With some
natural anxiety, I lifted the lid. The first thing that burst upon my view
was a very pretty muslin—worked with a green sprig—a nice morning

turned round, and saw it was neither one nor the other. It was a
bird of an enormous size, with large flesh}' knobs about its head and
neck. Had I seen such a bird before ? I had been to Mr. Womb-
well's ; he had nothing like it. And then I recollected that I had
seen something like the bird in London, at Christmas. In a word,

thing. I remembered the lady to whom the box belonged, and felt ' after much deeP thouSnt and Patient examination, I discovered the
that the gown could not fit me—it must be at least half-a-quarter too bkd t0 be a turkey—a wild turkey. At least, I thought, here is a

wide in the waist. But I felt half-comforted, and much distressed with
the thought that nobody would see me. I therefore began my toilette ;
and, considering my many difficulties, felt—for though I had no glass,
we feel when we look well—I felt myself interesting. I contrived to
pin in the gown, hiding it where most wanted with a primrose-coloured
China crape shawl. Dressing my hair in bands—for, though from
childhood it always curled naturally, it could not be expected to
curl so soon after so much salt water—I put on a beautiful chip
bonnet, (I am certain the unfortunate soul had brought it out with
her ready-trimmed for a hasty marriage). I was not troubled with

dinner. But how to get it home ? " Home !" so sweet is the word;
it follows us everywhere. My " home " was where my boxes were.
" How to get it home !"

"If anybody," I thought, forgetting my desolation, "was to see me
carrying a turkey, could I ever look the world in the face again ?"
Instinctively I looked round and round that nobody might behold me,
and at length lifted up the turkey by the neck. I do not profess to
be a correct judge of weights and measures—I never could learn 'em
at school, but I am very much mistaken if the turkey did not weigh
at least seventy pounds. It was most oppressive to carry ; but I

the shoes; for, by some strange fatality, even in England I never tho^gbt,how ™e_ it.„W°iuld bl^t\C°°ke<i
could get a shoe small enough for me ; and the lady whose shoes I
was doomed to wear had a foot like—but no ; never while I live will
I speak ill of the dead. I said my hair would not curL Let me
correct myself. One lock always could, particularly well. And this
lock—do what I might—always would show itself just under my
bonnet. And so it happened now.

Among the many little elegances—which I will not stop to name,
for they will find names in the bosom of every la ly—discovered in the
box, I found some court plaister. This was a blessing. I felt that
even among tigers—if there were tigers—I should not be deprived
of my daily beauty-spot. I also found a very handsome shot-silk
parasol, fresh from the shop, wrapt in its virgin paper. Now, I never
thought too much of my beauty—no woman can. Bat, from the
loveliness of my complexion, people had called me, from a child, Little
Dresden China. Therefore, my emotions on discovering the parasol,

Cooked ! Who was to cook it ? I, who never even made a custard
—because I thought it low—how was I to cook such a tremendous
animal as a turkey ! However, I walked on—wearily enough—until
I came back to my boxes. The tide had left my raft upon dry land
I would therefore, I thought, prepare my dinner. I knew that the
turkey must be picked. But how ? There was a dressing-case in
one of the boxes. I had secured that. I therefore searched for it ;
and taking from it a pair of tweezers, sat me down upon the beach,
and began to pick my turkey.

" TRAIN UP A CHILD," &x.

We see that Grammar Schools are to be erected on ^ifferfciit rail-
ways. The pupils will certainly get perfect in their accident*.