THE HOOD OF CHARLES SPENCER.. TEN BY HIMSELF AT THE AGE OF THIRTEEN. could believe that there was not such as the real Robinson Crusoe: some one when first I read the account of his ad that they were written by a person Defoe. I could not help doubting. "Debeen suspected," it was added, "of njustly given himself out as the author son Crusoe, but he really composed the m the journal of Alexander Selkirk; hose residence on a desert island, in -cumstances resembled that of Robinson I thought this account more probable, hly indignant at the conduct of Defoe, but still I could hardly believe that Robinson Crusoe was an assumed name, there seemed so much truth in the story.-Perhaps I was a silly child, then; but I know it seemed very fine to believe all about Robinson Crusoe. I always have intended, since I read Robinson Crusoe, to write my own adventures; and I have always had a sort of strange wish to be cast on the shore of some desolate island. If my father had not been unhappy, I think I should have run away sometimes; once in particular, I remember, after I had been walking with George Harman, and talking about foreign countriesI forgot to say who George Harman is, though; why, he is a midshipman, who has been now six years in the navy-I was almost tempted to become a sailor; but, as I said before, I could not bear to make my father unhappy. This wish of mine was wrong, I know; but I must speak of my faults. The reason I am now writing, is, that I am unable to leave the house: I was climbing to the top of one of the oaks behind our house, and I fell down and sprained my ankle. Why I should have said so much about Robinson Crusoe, I hardly know; for I have always lived at home, and met with very few adventures; none like his, of course. |