DIFFICULTY 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 reddened to the eyebrows at this uncalled-for remark; his fine
features, usually so placid and full of good nature, were distorted
with indignation; he turned fiercely toward the Doubter; he
instinctively doubled up both fists; he breathed hard between his
clenched teeth; then, hearing a low murmur of dissuasion from the whole
party, he turned away with a smile of contempt, breaking abruptly into
the burden of his song,
"Tinky ting tang, tinky ting tang,
Oh! poor Robinson Crusoe!
"While his man Friday kept the house snug and tidy,
For be sure 'twas his business to do so,
They lived friendly together, less like servant than neighbor,
Lived Friday and Robinson Crusoe.
Oh! poor, &c.
"Then he wore a large cap, and a coat without nap,
And a beard as long as a Jew, so
That, by all that's civil, he looked like a devil
More than poor Robinson Crusoe."
"Which shows," continued Abraham, with his accustomed smile of good
humor, "the extraordinary shifts to which a man may be reduced by
necessity, and the uncouth appearance he must present in a perfectly
unshaved state, when even the poet admits that he looked like a devil.
These articles of clothing, which contributed to give him such a wild
aspect, were made of goatskins, as he himself informs us in his
wonderful narrative; and I beg you to remember, gentlemen, that the very
skins upon which we are this moment sitting are related, by direct
descent, to those which were worn by Robinson Crusoe."
Here the Doubter groaned.
"Well, sir, is there any thing improbable in that?" said Abraham,
fiercely. "Have you any objection to that remark, sir?"
"No; I have nothing to say against it in particular, except that I'd
believe it sooner if there were goats in the skins. I never heard of
modern goatskins descending from ancient goatskins before."
"Of course, sir," said Abraham, coloring, "the goats were in the skins
before they were taken out."
"Likely they were," growled the Doubter; "I won't dispute that. But I'd
like to know, as a matter of information, if he, Robinson Crusoe, made
his clothes in the same way as he made his house?"
"To be sure, sir; to be sure: he made both with his own hands."
"I thought so," said the Doubter, sinking back into his dark corner; "he
sew'd 'em with glue. All glue--glue from beginning to end."
"I'll see you to-morrow, sir!" said Abraham, swelling with indignation;
"we'll settle this matter to-morrow, sir. At present I shall pay no
further attention to your remarks!" Here he drew several rapid breaths,
as if swallowing down his passion; and, looking round with a darkened
brow upon the mute and astonished company, resumed, in a loud and steady
voice,
"Tinky ting tang, tinky ting tang,
Oh! poor Robinson Crusoe!
"At length, within hail, he saw a stout sail,
And he took to his little canoe; so,
When he reach'd the ship, they gave him a trip,
Back to England brought Robinson Crusoe.
Oh! poor Robinson Crusoe!"
We all joined in the chorus--all, except the incredulous man; and,
notwithstanding the unfortunate difference between Abraham and that
individual, which tended so much to mar the harmony of the occasion, we
thought, from the way our voices sounded, that it must have been the
very first time this inspiring song was sung in the solitudes of Juan
Fernandez. I even fancied I detected the crusty voice of Pearce in the
chorus: but I wouldn't like to make a positive assertion to that effect,
on account of the danger of giving him offense, should he ever cast his
eyes upon this narrative. As there was still evidently a cloud upon
Abraham's brow, which might burst to-morrow upon the Doubter, and
thereby bring the whole adventure to a tragic termination, several of us
now, by a concerted movement, endeavored to effect a reconciliation. We
seized upon the Doubter, who by this time was dozing away in the corner,
and brought him forth to the light, where he looked about him in mute
astonishment, muttering, as if awakened out of a dream, "No, sir, it
can't be done, sir; a house never was built with glue yet; goatskins
never were sewed together with glue--never, sir, never!"
"You shall swallow those words, sir!" cried Abraham, quivering with
passion; "I'll make you swallow them, sir, to-morrow morning!"
"I'll swallow 'em now if you like," drawled the Doubter, with provoking
coolness, "but I can't swallow a house built of glue. Possibly I might
swallow the goatskins, but the house won't go down--it ain't the kind of
thing to go down!"
Here it required our full force to restrain Abraham; he fairly chafed
with indignation; his face was flushed; his nostrils distended; his
stalwart limbs writhing convulsively; in truth, our well-meant plan of
reconciliation only seemed to hasten the tragedy which we were striving
to prevent. Pearce himself now interposed.
"I know'd it," said he; "I know'd they'd tear my house down yet, and
ruin my furniture! Next thing, all hands'll be breakin' my chairs to
pieces on one another's heads; I know'd it; I wouldn't believe 'em on
oath!"
This rebuke touched Abraham in a tender point. Quick to take offense, he
was also ready in forgiving an injury, especially when a due regard for
the feelings of others required it.
"Gentlemen," said he, "it shall never be said that I have violated the
rites of hospitality. There shall be no further difficulty about this
matter; I forgive all. Your hand, sir!"
The Doubter awkwardly held out his hand and suffered it to be shaken,
upon which he crept back into his dark corner, still, however, muttering
incoherently from time to time; but as nothing could be distinguished
but the word "glue," it was not deemed of sufficient importance for the
renewal of hostilities, or the interruption of the general harmony. Good
humor being restored, it was all the more hearty after these unpleasant
little episodes; and so genial an effect had it upon Pearce, that he
quite forgot his resentment, and unbended himself again. Gradually he
began to tell us wild stories of his Crusoe life; how he had lived all
alone for nearly a year on the island of Massafuero without seeing the
face of man; how, during that time, he sustained himself upon roots and
herbs, and likewise by catching wild goats in traps; how he never was so
happy in his life, and never had any trouble till he left that island in
a whaler, and came here to Juan Fernandez; how for two years he had
lived on this island, sometimes alone, and sometimes surrounded by
outlawed Chilians; how on one occasion, while up in the mountains
hunting goats, he fell down a precipice, and broke his arm and two of
his ribs, and was near dying all alone, without a soul to care for him.
A great many strange stories and legends he told us, too, in his rude
way, about Juan Fernandez; and so strong was his homely language, and so
fresh and novel his reminiscences, that we often looked round in the
waning light of the lamp for fear some ghost or murderer would steal in
upon us.
As well as I can remember, one of his strange narratives was
substantially as follows. There was all the force of reality to give it
interest; for it was evidently, as he told us, a simple recital of
facts.