º


A COLLECTION OF
ROBINSON CRUSOES
WHEREIN ARE SET FORTH SUNDRY
DIVERTING ADVENTURES IN THE
LIBRARY OF GEORGE A. HOUGH
OF NEW BED FORD, WITH THE
GREAT ADVENTURER, HIM SELF,
AS A GUIDE, * * t;
BY
DAVID MACGREGOR CHENEY
NEW BEDFORD, MASS.
1911

DEDICATED TO
THE COLLECTOR OF CRUSOES
BY HIS FRIEND, THE AUTHOR
Reprinted from The Sunday Standard of December 17, 1911.
Through the courtesy of E, Anthony & Sons.
I?IHO V
TALS
JHO (HOSſl}{O (HXII
(H (INVH 9
"GHTTIA
&&&&&&&&&
șae
§§§××××&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
*…*…*…*..*..*- ∞×××××。- ： -- --
*:）-:&&ſaeș***
* • • •
*：）*）*）*）*） =.*.





f2x e- &
23
/… c. -
*_{*. 3. *-** <--~~
7%a-2 rue--~~~
<- X-94 7
§ & 42.5°
A Collection of Robinson Crusoes
1.
The Coming of Robinson Crusoe.
I was fast asleep, as I supposed, in
my own chamber, . When awakened
suddenly by a sharp blow in the side,
and seemed to hear a distant and
curious voice calling to me. “What are
ye, gentleman 2"
I sprang up, to find myself con-
fronted at the bedside by as curious
a personage as ever I Saw. He Was
about middle-height, and had at first
glance the appearance of a wild man,
–but this, I soon found, was due to
his being clad all in some hairy skins
that fitted him ill enough, like meal
sacks. He wore on his head a shape-
less cap, tall at the crown and made.
also of hairy skin. His beard was
cropped somewhat short, but his
mustachios hung, long and wild, lower
than his chin. His complexion was al-
most mulatto, produced as I thought
by exposure to a tropical sun; and his
face was deep-lined as if he had suf-
fered many ills. In his hand he bore
a curious parasol, made of skins with
the hair on, with which he had poked
me ere I awoke.
Now, as I glared affrighted at the
apparition, I began to distinguish be-
hind him another figure, which I
could ill make out, but thought Was
that of a savage man, clad rudely
enough. And as I looked, the walls
of my room receded, and there
sprang forth beyond great trees and
many shrubs and vines, and I thought
I heard the boom of breakers on the
shore. A parrot, of bright plumage,
came with a great flutter of wings
from the woods, and settling on the
hairy man’s shoulder, began to repeat
in a cracked and mournful voice, Over
and over, “Poor Robin' Poor Robin'”
pecking gently at its master's ear.
I sank down on a sandy shore
before that hairy man, and be -
gan to stammer, what I know not, -
only I thought I besought him to
spare my life and I would serve him
in any capacity he chose to demand.
And, as I knelt, my eyes chanced to
look beyond, and I was astounded to
behold, over by an inlet that made up
into the land, another hairy man,
much like unto the first, passing
swiftly by the bleached ribs of a
ship’s boat, that lay all ruined and
half swallowed by the beach-sand,
with sea-grass already growing where
the sturdy mariners had once pulled
hard at Oaken oars.
This second man came running and
hallooing at me, also in English, but
I found him strangely different from
the first, and the wind seemed to play
with and flutter him as if he were
paper. Then I beheld, as on a sudden
he slipped Over a rock, that he was as
thin as a hair, and was covered all
across his back with printed words!
Straightway there sprang up from
a score of places, from behind trees,
from over a rocky hill, a great com-
pany of these same hairy men. They
came bounding along the shore; they
came paddling in dug-outs down the
inlet; they appeared as if by magic
out of empty air, and all began hal-
looing at me, as had the first, in a
habble of many tongues, “What are
ye, gentleman,’’ and among them I
heard Spanish and French, German
and Danish, Swedish and Portuguese,
and many another language that I do
not know.
While all these hairy men bore
startling similarities one to the others
in general make-up, I saw that, though
my first speaker, who seemed sub-
stantial and real enough, had the face
of an Englishman, these others were
foreigners of many nationalities.
There was a rotund Dutchman with a
fat and merry countenance; a lean,
dark, black-bearded Portuguese ſel-
low, whose hairy clothes were cut
after the fashion of his own land;
and a girlish faced Swede, with Saxon
locks and a complexion of peaches
and cream.
I saw, too, amongst them, many a
figure that was all stained with age,
like an engraving cut from an ancient
book. And one had a ragged tear
across his face, and the wind kept
parting the two halves and slapping
them together in a horrid way; an-
other had a hole through his middle;
and all fluttered like autumn leaves,
and, in the breeze, I saw many had
printing across their backs and many
had backs yellow-white or quite
blank, like the picture pages in a
book.
And “What are ye, gentleman 2''
they all began hallooing again.
“Only a reporter,” I gasped out, at
last, ready to die with fear.
But this word they did not under-
stand, and came at me again more
and more determinedly, shouting
around me in their many tongues,
“What are ye, what are ye, what are
ye, gentleman?” until it sounded like
the chorus of the full Cecilia in Bos-
ton, chanting its many refrains.
And I replied, “An uncontaminated
voter from the august city of New
Bedford, state of Massachusetts,
United States of America,” with which
reply they all seemed satisfied.
Then I mustered all the courage I
had and a little more that did not
rightly belong to cowardly me, and
questioned in my turn. *:
“What are you, gentlemen 7”
At once the first hairy man made
reply: r -
“I am the original and only genuine
Robinson Crusoe, born of a true-
blooded Englishman's brain, born of
a healthy, lusty political pamphleter.
I am Daniel Defoe's own, first real
masterpiece, immortal throughout all
time to all eternity.”
“And what are these ?” I
asked, greatly astonished.
“They are wood-cuts and engrav-
ings, false and imaginary Crusoes,
copied by many men in the books of
many languages. They are all imita-
tions of me!” - &
“Whence do they all come, with
their parrots and their men Fridays
and their dogs?” I continued, Watch-
ing the fluttering, fragile host.
... “They have escaped for a night
from the books in the collection of
George A. Hough, of your city,”
replied the true Robinson. Crusoe;
“thence they come occasionally to my
island to frolic and to play that they
are 'real. But I associate not. With
them; have I not my Pol parrot, anid
my' man Friday and, of late, his
father and the Portuguese, saved
from the cannibals, as well ?” ---
“How came this fellow citizen of
mine to possess all these paper
characters?” I asked. :
“He has collected them for Some
years,” replied Crusoe proudly, “be:
cause of his great admiration for and
friendship with me and my creator,
Defoe. He has sent to many lands
for them. He has gathered them in
books and out of books, and now they
are pressed together year in and year
then
out on the shelves of his library. That
is the reason they caper about SO, now
they are free for a little time and can
fancy they are real, here on my un-
inhabited island, where I have lived
for eight and twenty years, for near-
ly two centuries now, on the Coast
of America, near the mouth of the
great river Oroonooſue.”
And at that, he commended me
suddenly to the library of the col-
lector he had named, and with all the
multitude of his imitators, vanished
with his island into thin air.
I then awoke, to find I had tumbled
out of bed.
2.
The Book-Shelf Crusoes.
So it was, oh, readers all, whether
you believe it or not, that a certain
uncontaminated reporter in this wick-
ed city by the Acushnet sought admis-
Sion to the shelves of a certain col-
lector of “Robinson Crusoes,” and
this paper will tell what he discover-
ed there.
Here, a Crusoe German, and there
a Crusoe French; here a Swiss Family
Robinson, based upon Defoe's book,
and there a child's chap book, gaily
tinted, arrayed like a modern Joseph
in a coat of many colors. There was
a heap of them sprawling over one
another on the floor, and a small,
brown-skinned Volume lay open across
the visitor's lap. The twilight was
flinging its translucency through the
front windows of the collector's house.
Perhaps the reporter nodded a bit
OVer the old “Robinson Crusoe.” Per-
haps he only imagined it. At any
rate, he thought as the night came
and the room became too dark to see
the volume before him, that a breath
of Wind stirred in the pages of the
91d book, and dust puffed in a cloud
into his face. When he had rubbed
his eyes, and Coughed and sneezed, he
found his friend Robinson, seated op-
posite him in full goat skin
regimentals, , with his parasol lying
On the floor beside him. • . . .
“I have lived on this ... island.”
Crusoe was repeating in a dozy sort
Qf way, “these eight and twenty years,
for nearly two centuries now, on this
island on the coast of America, near
. mouth Of the great river Oroono-
€. -
“Why, it is Crusoe, himself, of
Whom I have been reading in this old
volume,” said I. - +. -:
“Early American Robinson Crusoe,
New York, printed and published by
George Long, 71 Pearl street, 1814,
With copper plates,” quoth Crusoe
lackadaisically. “Not so very old, 'you
See, but rare for an American, and in-
teresting-yet not Old.” - ... • •
Crusoe,” I said, scrutinizing his ill-
made clothes and his soft, peaked
hat, “I have read in the book how
you left the island, when you saved
the captain from the mutinous crew,
and after wandering a bit, returned to
England, married, had children, and
lived contentedly until—”
“It was near the beginning of the
year 1693,” said Crusoe, reminiscently
pulling at his long mustache, "when
my nephew came to me and told me
that some merchants of his ac-
quaintance had been proposing to him
to go a voyage for them to the East
Indies and to China, as private
traders. “And now uncle,” says he,
10
::::：::::::::::：:：:· |--ſae
- -§§∞≡
ae
（~~）;
sº
º
ſae
ſae
º
º
º
º
º
sº
*...*…*…*¿¿.*:::：::::::::::&
····---···---···---···ae
№vºst， * * *.*..*
*（3） * * * *******
•«，
º:
º
º
- º
º: º
sº **º
*-- » «）*）*）*）（ ）（ *）*）*）*）*）**
*...*.* * * * * * .*s* g
§§！|-）;|- --··**…*..*..*
º
&
gº
º
i.
RUF
.#
ºw
T
*
W D ON LY
SOE **
719.
&
*• • •
:：:：：:
ſae，
*
*
*};
ģ|×
¿?） *（.*?）*
:::::
* * .*
*ą.
ſae
¿№
º
º
º
¿|-
A
INAL
SO
ORIG
E
TH
* I A M
RU
*
A
N (
r
BIN
rom Edi
O
R
tion of 1
F

“if you will go to sea with me, I'll
engage to land you upon your old
habitation in the island.’”
“And the scheme hit so exactly
upon your temper,” said I, uncon-
sciously relapsing into the very
language of Daniel Defoe.
“That I told him in a few words that
I would go with him,” continued
Crusoe.”
“And you passed the burning ship,
whose crew you saved, and the ship
without a captain whose masts a hur-
ricane had swept by the board, and,
in short, after
adventures, returned again to
island by the river Oroonogue!”
“And so I brought the ship safe to
an anchor broadside with the little
creek where was my old habitation,”
I thought I heard a voice murmuring
in reply. Then I drifted off for a
time, and thought I saw Friday leap-
ing from the boat into the water and
seizing upon his astonished father.
who was coming down from the
shadows of the woods to the shore,
was dancing about him in a frenzy
the
of joy. x
“Eight and twenty years,” the old
man's voice came to me again, “eight
and twenty, eight and twenty, and all
alone—upon an uninhabited island by
the mouth Of the great river.”
And then I started awake, to find
Crusoe still before me, nodding in the
dim light, as I had been. And then
I thought he was not there, and again
thought him there, until he seemed to
melt into the night and become part
of shadows and dreams. #
“Crusoe,” said I, “are you there?"
“Or here or in your book, what is
the difference 2'' he replied. -
“If you will hold it wider open and
not keep shutting it with your knees
When you doze off, you will find me
a clearer vision, and I will be your
guide amid a maze of pleasant
fancies.”
“Since you are there, Crusoe, and
not a fancy,” said I, “I want to ask
how it is that, seeing you long since
left your island and lived a civilized
life in England, and was there buried
I doubt not (though the recorder
does not say), how it is you come to
me in the collector's room clad in
your coat of the skin of a goat, as the
poet described you.”
“Turn to your books,” replied
Crusoe. “You will find me confront-
ing you there in many guises. Do I
not still retain the form of my youth
there, what time my father pressed
me earnestly, and in most affectionate
manner, not to play the young man,—
not to go to sea. ? Turn the pages,
friend of Defoe's and mine,—do I not
still retain there the garments that
were mine when a Moorish slave?
sundry diverting
#
Turn again, and see in a wood engrav-
ing how I was clad when rolled
against the rock on the shore of my
island. And later I am as you have
fancied me for so long and see me
now, clad in my goat skin suit, with
my parasol of skin, and my peaked
cap on my head. What comes later
Concerns you not. Turn down the
page and close the book. I come as
men love to see me in their minds,-
I am the real Crusoe, born of the
true-blooded Englishman's brain. He,
too, liked me best like this. I might
have come to you in many guises. Silk
or slave-cotton, goat skin or sailor's
canvas, here am I garbed in the
fashion whose cut will never be for-
gotten as long as men and boys read
of me and dream of me, and fancy
the tale of my shipwreck on an
uninhabited island off the mouth of
the great river Oroonogue.”
He, the Crusoe of dreams, the man
of adventure, the immortal; and I,
the reporter of facts, bound to the
common place, thus sat opposite each
other in the darkness. And as we
talked, I thought the room suddenly
became lighter, and wondered to ſind
that light came ſrom the great mind
of the master behind the creation,--
the mind of Daniel Defoe, a light
which seemed to bathe Crusoe, the
book shelves, and me in its brightness
and banish the shadows and the un-
certainties, making all, of his great
realism seem more real and more
real.
Then as I watched, I thought the
very books on the shelves became
enthused with that quickening life,
and moved and muttered annong
themselves with a sound of leaves
blown about in the wind. They moved
ill their places, and the Souls of the
books came out of their chrysalids
like freed butterflies and stood about
me. There was the Swiss Family
Robinson amid a throng of Crusoes,
—my Crusoes of the island; there
were men Fridays beyond count, and
parrots of all sorts; there were wreck-
ed ships, pirate crews, toiling slaves,
jolly mariners, the Spaniards all who
followed Friday's father and the
Portuguese seamen back from the
land of savages, to dig and plant and
reap where Crusoe lived alone so long
with dog and goat and talking bird.
And again I thought that all those
forms were shadows, or else figures
cut from the engravings of books
with printing across their backs,—
save that among them all the first
Robinson Crusoe, my old friend
Crusoe, stood out alone, the real, the
first, the only genuine, substantial as
flesh and blood, gazing at me steadily
out of his wise old eyes and ready to
explain to me all about the motley
13
array of characters that came rustling
Out of the volumes on the shelves.
“I am Daniel Defoe's own; his first
real masterpiece, immortal through-
Out all time to all eternity. These
are wood-cuts and engravings false
and imaginary Crusoes, all imita-
tions of me!” I heard him saying it
again, -a, refrain from my earlier
dream of him, like an echo, a voice
far-away. -
“I was born,” continued the speaker
in quite the language of the opening
of the book which bears his nanne,
“in the year 1719 in the brain of
Defoe, and straightway set all the
world al-talking of me. Straightway
all the world, too, fell to copying my
Creator's great design, which he alone
of men imagined and gave form to
in good black ink on good white
paper;-and they have translated my
tale and issued false likenesses of me
On every continent of Europe.
“The book in which I was made im-
mortal became in the course of time,
in that first and earliest form, very
rare indeed. . . It is worth even as
much as $1,800,—a price which has
been paid for it at recent auctions.
Such an edition is not to be found in
this collector's library, nor, indeed, in
your city. He possesses a facsimile
copy, however, which is interesting
and which has all the advantages of
the old, except the sense of age and
the great Value that accompanies a
1719 “Robinson Crusoe.”
“I had appeared before men to en-
tertain and delight only one year,
when Opitz, a German, translated my
creator's story of my life into Ger-
man,—whereupon a German imita-
tion of me joined the now great com-
pany which you see, so shadowy and
unreal, all round me. Opitz placed
me in good company, for with that
book of my master's was translated,
also, Sydney’s “Arcadia,” a poet’s
dream when modern poetry was just
dawning.
“My master's book had a great run
in Germany, and many, many were
the editions which appeared there
during the next forty years, with the
result, as you see, of a goodly com-
pany of German Crusoes who follow
me about and try to appear to men's
minds as I do. But they are false,
false dreams, and mere paper, mere
paper! º
“Then,” continued Crusoe, poking
at a thin paper Crusoe wood cut,
which had fluttered itself too near him,
with his skin parasol, “then, Germans
formed many a literary clique and
settlements appeared, each creating
its own Robinson Crusoe of the Eng-
lish Crusoe type. My master’s book
exerted a big influence, you may well
believe, upon their aventure romance,
—but an indirect influence through,
German imitations and translations.
“Oh, sir, have you read that “Insel
Felsenberg’” Schwabel did it, in
1731. I’ve heard your literary men
prate of its real value, as they assert,
in sentiment and poetry connected
With the popular element. But it is
not real,—a mere imitation; paper,
paper, that’s all. It doesn’t tell of my
fate alone or the fate of a man model-
ed on me, alone, but narrates the
fate of an entire family.
“And there you come to your Swiss
Family Robinson. You thought it was
English 2 No, my friend. It was born
in Germany of German translations
and imitations of my master's book
and me. “Robinson der Jungerer' ap-
peared in 1799. A fellow named Cram-
be who loved my master well produced
it. This is the form, the imitation of
me, sir, that is known in Germany
today. The great Rousseau praised
it, but those German translations
rarely give my master's structure;
they rarely attain to his great skill in
telling a good story so that it seems
truth and not fiction. This 1799 edi-
tion is used today as a text book.
“But the Swiss Family Robinson 2
I am coming to that,” and Crusoe
pulled again at his mustaches
reminiscently. “The “Insel Felsen-
berg’ resulted in ‘Der Schweizische
Robinson,’ as it was called, and J. R.
Wyss brought it out, modeled care-
fully on my master's greater master-
piece. In 1812, when this appeared,
children turned again to my master's
work. The imitation only served to
make English men and women and
children love me the more. This
'Swiss Family Robinson’ by Wyss was
soon translated into English. It does
not tell of the fate of a single man,
either. They could not be content
with creating their paper products in
imitation of me, but they must
needs produce a whole family of cast-
away wood engravings and steel en-
gravings. Look about you sharply
and you will see them all, half hidden
in the shadow of the book shelves.”
Far-away was his voice, again, and
I nodded over the old American
edition. A procession of Robinson
Crusoes passed me, filing Indian
fashion along an endless shore. And
I thought that they chanted as they
marched, as the only genuine, the
eternally famous Crusoe led their
advance, the words of the poet:
“I am monarch of all I Survey,
My right there is none to dispute;
From the centre all round to the Sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O, Solitude! Where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place.”
14
&
- .. §§§ ğ & º sº i.
º º sº º º º 3.
sº §
º º sº. º gº º
º **.*.*.*.*. º sº º
& º ..º.º.º. : ºś
& £& &
§§º.3% º º & ..º.º.º. .*.*.*.*.*.*.*. º
*. &º º sº : & º
º 3. º & &
º sº … º º sº
º
% §
º º º
*.*.*. sº
sº : & º
sº & ë.
Ç **.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. º º º
º & § & <& º sº
: - § 3. & & ;3. º + *.*.*.*.*.* .
& & 3& º
sº sº .*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* a.º.º.º.º.º.º. ..º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º. sº
º *...*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*, tºº...º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º. *.*.*.*.*.sº
& º < *, 2*, *, *. ºº: º
a. *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* %
º •º **.* & º
..º.º. º &
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* & ºº:: º
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: º .
º sº sº %
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* ..º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º. x”
fº. ºº:: # ,
º - º }
§ : º ºr.º.º.º.º.º.º.º. 3%
º, & 3 .
: §
£
§
§
º
§ º
º **a*.
sº *...*.*.*.*.*.*
º ::::::::::::::
º *...*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
.*.*.*.*.*.
* * *.*.*.*.*.3%
& ź
: sº º
º ..º.º.º.º.º.
º *.*.*.*.*.*.*.**
§§§ .*.*.*.*.*.*
º *…*.*.*.*
ſº. *.*.*.*.*.*.*.
gº a *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
§: *.*.*.*.*.*.**
gº ****, *.*.*.*.*.*.
º “. . . *.*.*.*.*.*.*
: * : * ~ *, *, * * *
º ... *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
º, º
º .* **, *.*.*.*.*.*.
.*.*.*.*.*. 3.
º z
º
º º ºr...….
..º. ***, * : *, *.x.","...a
º 3:38:::::::::::::
º º,…,
º &:
§. § § .*.*.*.
º &
ń. iº .*.*.*, *... ". .
. gº. - ... *.
º gº *.*.*.*.*…,
; “. . . . .
:
ğ
º
º
ſº
.
º º
§ & "g º
& *.*.*.* º
:::::::::: º
*.*.*.*.* º 3.
§ **, *, *. º Ž
d *, *, *, *, * §
. . *, *, * º &
• *, *, *, *, º -
#. .*.*. ... *. º
# .*.*.*.s. *.*.*.*.*.*.*
º sº ..º.º.
*...*.*. . §§ *...*** *...* ź
*...*. º º
& sº º
§ * : * * * : & º 3 * * * *
º Fº
$: sº sº sº
sº sº jº.º.º.
2- . sº º º
::::::::::::::::::::::::::3& ºº:::::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::...º. iº º
*.*.*.*, * : jº º º ºx º *...*.*.*
a *, *, * §. « », sº, *, * × < *, º”.3%
# , ". . . gº. **, *, 3 x *, *, * * ***.* §
*...*.*. sº º,....... º jº,
.*.*.*. * ... .º.º.º.º.º.º.º. .*.*.*. º
*...*.*. × ſº
g”, & " "s § 2. . . * §
*.*.*.*. §§ §§ 3. *. ś
...'. º º, º
.*.*.* dº...º §. º
*.*.*.*.* & *...*.*.*.*.*. º º º,
º &º º 3
• *, *, * ..º.º.º.º.º.º.º. ś §§
* ... *, * 3& º &
‘...." § § º º,
***. *, *.*.*.*, a . jº . #
*.*. §. 2", . *...*.*.*.*.*.*.* sº !.
***. º *...*. .*.*. *.*.*.*.*. *...* º:
2 * > * º “...º.º.º.º. "...º.º.º. º ſº
, & ſº, e., . . . . . . . *.*.*.*.*.*.*.sº **.*.*.*.*.*.*. {...} º
2 *, * §.g”, “... < *, *, *.*, *, * 4. a .8. 2", . *...*.*.*.*.
z s° & s? &#. & "3 *... 3 3 & #8, 8. . 3. 8. % ğ.
“. . ". . . . . . . . . *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. **, *, *.*.*.*.*.*.*. º
*...* . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . *...*.*.*.*, *º º,
..., ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::3&º. º
Çe. ºº:: *. º
i. .*.*.*.*. º: ğ.
º .*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. 3%. 3.8
§ *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. *...*&# 3
& **.*.*.*.* .*.*.*.*.*.*. *...****, 3 º'
º: • *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*, *, *.*.*.*.* * &”.8%, $3.3 ×
º x- 2 x ..º.º.º.
ś ºº:::::::::::::::::::::::...º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º. & 3.
º: ºº::...º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º. .*.*.*.*.*.*.*
z *...*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. > *.*.* * . *.*.*.*.*.* • * *.*.*.*.**
§ §§§ ºxx"...º.º. º.º.º. • *, *, *, *, *, * *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*, x *.*.*.*.*.*.*. # *.*.*.*.*.*.*, *, **a +
tº º òº ..º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º. ºº::
. º º ſº *.*.*.*,
3. *. 3& &zºº 3& & & r
º ś º, 㺠*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. º
w Wºº gº g ; º º º
& & & & .
§3 º ? & º § º º & Žº-º-º: & º
º & ºx". .*.*, *g.
A FRENCH CONCEPTION OF CRUSOE AND FRIDAY.
Done by Jules Tesquet.











































































































































































































































































































































&<（~&&
ź
%
%
º
***
º
%
MOMENT.
§§
$§§§§
º
EPTION AT AN EXCITING
of Lisbon.
By Alberto Souza,
º
sº
sº
º
§
§
sº
ç&&
ğ
§§
§§
$
ģ$ģğ
ź
A PORTUGUESE CONC


Then they blurred and faded and I
slept, to be awakened, as I thought,
again by the voice of Crusoe.
“Every nation has its Crusoe,” he was
Saying, completing some thought
whose beginning I had not heard.
“Then they must needs find my island,
and light upon a shore I never trod.
And newspaper men wrote cheap and
tawdry nonsense of “Crusoe’ island, as
they called it, Juan Fernandes, for-
SOOth, where this man Selkirk lived.
But have I not said distinctly enough
that my uninhabited island was
On the coast of America, near the
mouth of the great river Oroonogue 2’’
There he sat again, shadowy, in-
distinct, yet present with me. The
book closed in my lap and slipped to
the floor, and a parroty voice mutter-
ed in my ear, “Poor Robin! Poor
Robin'” While I thought I heard
the voice of the man in goatskins
Chanting proudly his old refrain:
“I am Daniel Defoe's own, his first
real masterpiece, immortal throughout
all time to all eternity.”
3.
The Collector’s Shelves.
A clock ticked softly to itself on the
mantel shelf, and the collector’s wife
had quietly entered the room and
lighted the gas. The reporter stirred
uneasily in his chair, yawned, rubbed
his eyes and glanced blankly at the
Spot Where he had thought, a moment
before, he was conversing with
Crusoe. He was alone with the books
and the ticking clock.
He rose and glanced sharply at the
place where Crusoe had stood, and
Was astonished to find on the carpet
Several long, brown hairs from the
goatskin suit, which he carefully
placed in a note book in his pocket.
They are all he has to prove that he
has had the honor of conversing with
the famous Robinson Crusoe him-
Self!
The early American edition lay
Where it had fallen on the floor. He
turned to the shelves again, and took
down volume after volume from their
places. -
Here were Crusoes German and
Crusoes French, indeed; Crusoes
Italian, Crusoes Danish, Crusoes
Spanish and Crusoes Dutch. Here
Were chap books for children, with
gaudy Robinsons represented there-
in, hairy men wearing purple shoes,
and Sporting pale blue hose and high.
Very brown fur caps.
Here too, was a curious old volume
in Latin, translated by M. G. Goffeux,
long in use as a textbook in France.
The Volume is a first American edition
of this translation. The opening is
pompous with its graceful Latin of
the old school: --
“Erat Hamburgi,” it begins, “in
urbe apud Germanos celeberrima, vir
Quidan, cur nomen Robinson. Sus-
Cepit ex uxore tres filios.”
“I wonder,” thought he who stood
wondering by the shelf, “what Old
Crusoe would have thought of this?”
and glanced at a view of Crusoe dis-
covering the footprint in the sand.
His dog was there, a group of rocks,
the sea beyond, and a few shells on
the Strand, but the umbrella was
missing. Then he glanced over his
shoulder, half expecting to find
Crusoe standing behind him as be-
fore. Was this one of his paper
Crusoes 2 Or would it have stood be-
side the Only genuine One as more
material than the rest? Surely, its
Latin solidity would give it substance!
And what is this? “Ich bin in der
Staat York in Yahre 1632 als Kind
einer angesehenen Familie geboren,
die urfsprunglich nicht aus dieser
Legend stammte.” Queer, uncouth
words that find a pleasant echo in the
English mind—because English, too,
was once Very like that, when the
Angles, Saxons and Jutes came to
Britain. A German book, this, print-
ed at Leipzig.
The collector has a number of Ger-
man editions, but there is not an op-
portunity here to describe them all.
Among other foreign editions the fol-
lowing, which the visitor took down
from the shelves to examine and
admire, are of interest:
Portuguese: Lisboa. 1903, “Vida e
Aventuras Robinson de Crusoe.”
French: Troisienne edition: “La Vie
et Les Aventures Surprenantes de
Robinson Crusoe.” Printed, however,
at Amsterdam, “Chez Zacharo Chate-
lain, 1727.”
Danish: “Robinson Crusoe,” John
Martins forlog; Copenhagen.
Swedish: Robinson Crusoe, Efter
Joachinn Heinrich Campe, ny Bear-
betning, Stockholm.
Greek: Published in Athens in 1863,
and bearing the autograph of Edward
Everett Hale, Oct. 1909.
Norwegian, published at Christiana.
Italian: “Vita ed Aventure di Robin-
son Crusoe,” Milane, Societa Editiree
Sonzogno.
Dutch: “Het Deven en de Lot geval-
len van Robinson Crusoe Door Daniel
Defoe. Bewerkt door D. PClein, Jr.,
Geillustreerd.” Amsterdam.
“Jag foddes ar 1632 i York och
harstammer , fran en aktad family,
som likval icke till hor detta, land.”
Oh, Crusoe of Sweden, how would the
true Crusoe of the first edition have
looked upon you, curly headed
Norseman with blue eyes and golden
hair! “Den Verklige Bobinson
Crusoe,” the title reads,--Swedish,
but printed in Chicago by the Eng-
17
berg-Holmberg Publishing company.
The Robinson Crusoe of G. A. Grub-
ner also in Swedish, is an interesting
volume and contains many original
and interesting illustrations,——among
others, representations of “Robin-
son's Spade,” and “Robinson’s
hatchet.” -
Besides the volume in French al-
ready , mentioned, Crusoe’s Ilê W
acquaintance found many another
French Crusoe in the collector's
library. Among these, that same
familiar opening, which has been al-
ready quoted in several languages,
ran in the more melodious romance
tongue: “Je suis ne en l'annee mil
six cent trente-deux dans la Ville
d’York, d'une bonne famille.” This
is from “Adventures de Robinson
Crusoe, nouvelle edition; Tours, Al-
fred Mame et fils, editeurs, 1867.”
Another Paris edition is that edited
by Garnier Freres, and illustrated by
J. J. Grandville; the illustrations in
the volume being especially interest-
ing. Here is also a Crusoe edited by
Emile Guerin in Paris and One pub-
lished in Paris in 1850.
So the visitor found the shadowy
Crusoes, that he had been privileged
to see a little before on that sandy
shore and in the collector's library,
were indeed numerous, and many of
them quaint and foreign, and full of
absorbing interest. The English edi-
tions he found were many.
Here was an early, scarce edition
with extra plates: London, printed
for W. Lane, Leadenhall street, 1790;
and a delightful pair of books in
morocco, beautifully bound and illus-
trated by Cruikshank (London, 1831).
Other English editions on the col-
lector's shelves are as follows:
Edinburgh, 19th edition, 1773; a
1778 edition; London, 1785; London,
logographic press, 1790, a handsomely
illustrated volume, the plates being
old and interesting; 1790, printed for
John Stockdale, Piccadilly. Chiswick,
from the press of C. Wittingham, Coll.
house: 1822. -
Among later
Globe edition, London,
Co., 1868. Introduction
Kingsly. -
- Major’s edition, London, Chatto &
Windus, Piccadilly, 1890; London,
Henry G. Bohn, York street, Covent
Garden, 1846: London, Sands & Co.,
1902, London, George Routledge &
Sons limited; New York, the Ameri-
can News Co.; New York, 1836, C.
Wells, “Carefully adapted to youth;”
editions are these:
Macmillan &
by Henry
early American, New York, printed
and published by George Long, 71
Pearl street, 1814, with copper plates;
and the Houghton, Mifflin & Co.'s
edition of 1902. There is also the
quaint “Children's Robinson Crusoe,
by a Lady,” published in Boston in
1830 by Gray, Little & Wilkins.
So the visitor who had dreamed
looked and looked, until once again
there came swarming around him out
of the books a mighty gathering of
Crusoes, that kept incessantly passing
and repassing out of and back into
the volumes on the shelves. There
Were brilliantly colored fellows
escaped from children's chap books;
one who came from a POrtuguese
chapbook; and stalwart fellows who
had slid down from such editions as
the London and New York one of
1871, published by T. Nelson & Sons;
the Crusoe from Dr. G. H. Maynadier’s
edition of Defoe's works; the London
& Cambridge edition of 1866, edited
by J. W. Clark, that of 1860, London,
Routledge, Warne & Routledge, and
the Boston edition of 1876, published
by Lee & Shepard.
There came also an etched Crusoe
from the London edition of 1882,-
published by J. C. Nimmo & Bain,
with eight etchings by M. Mouilleron.
There came stage Crusoes from Robin-
son Crusoe plays, and imitated
Crusoes from many a work founded
on Defoe's masterpiece.
So the night gathered, dark about
the windows; and the visitor, forget-
ting the real world, moved among the
creations of Defoe's brain in a land
of Defoe's own inventing. The Com-
ing of Crusoe had brought with it a
new interest in the story, in the Old
wood cuts, in the ancient engravings.
The visitor could hear, in his fancy,
again, the breakers on the shore of
that uninhabited island, and Crusoe’s
own voice chanting his refrain:
“Twenty-eight years, for nearly two
centuries now, alone on an uninhabited
island off the coast of America, near
the mouth of the great river Oroono-
Que.”
And a flaming-winged parrot snap-
ped his ivory bill and called hoarsely
“Poor Robin' Poor Robin?” while a.
herd of goats galloped across a
grassy hilltop and bleated as the wind
came singing to them. Oversea. But,
after all, it was the spell of the col-
lector’s library which was on him,-
and the dreamer became a reporter
again, put his pencil in his pocket and
went out into the night.
18
sº, sae.*）（±√（√∞.'，:：::::：::：::：:-:¿:：::：::::：:：::::：：：:：:：:：：:：:：:::：：:：
* * * * * * · * * * * *:：::：::::：:：:：：：:：::：::::：::：:：::：::::：:g*…*…*..*
*** & * & * = g*, *）?）.*¿.*（±（√≠√∞ae.
*******）*）*）*）*）*）（.*¿¿.**：）*）\s*）*）*）*）
*：）*）*）*）*）*）ſae*…*…*..*..*
*（.*¿¿.*）*）*）:：：：：:：::::
*、、、、、、、、、、、、、）ſae
ſae§3șaes*）*）*）*）
■■■■■■■>.■
ğ
ğ
§§§șiš
3：38
ș*）*）*）*）*）*）*）*）*）（.*）ſae
* * * * · * * * · *§¶√∞
✉
！№.
ae
§ģ
✉
**.*.*.*.
*.*.*.*.*
&
、
ğšž?
✉ğ
©
&
→ſae
×、、
|-✉ſae
*¿¿.*（±（√∞∞∞
:S-ſaeſaeae
、·
∞
ſae,
№t：
¿***
*、、、、、*）
：：：:：:：:：：
！* ş.
、
$
::::::::：:::::::::::
º
**.*.*.*
§§
º
e.º.º.
§ğšș
！：
ğ
、
ae
ğ
.
§
ğ
sº
º
.
§
.
ãº
sº
g&
§3
:
sº
§º.
º
º
sº
Čº
sº
º
§§
º
º
§º.
§:
º
gº
%
$
º
.*.*.*.
§
i.
º
º
Ç
.
sº
.
.
ğ.
º
3
º
.
3.
§
º
§
。
§§
！
.
º
.
.
º
%.
§
、
3
§3
:
。
×* 3.§§§§
-aeae
:：::：：:：：::::：:：:：:：：:：:：:
§§§:3§: №：：：:：:：:：：:：：:：::：：：：:：:：：
§§ſae
ģ§§§！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！
· *șšĂșžğģae！
șğğș și¿.*.*?< *******
！ſae:：:：:：
ș§§§ğ
、§§§§
· ·©
*（3*x*… șiſaeğ
§§→§§
.
&
£3
º
.*.
sº
sº
º
sº
ğ.
º
§§
º
º
º
º
§§
&
º
º
º
º
º
º
.
3.
º
º
&
&
º
º
S FRIDAY.
E
(Published at Copenhagen),
3.
ğ
ź
*¿¿.**s*®ğ
ſae&&&&&&
§¶√∞·ģğşºğ
ſae&&&&&（±（√∞
！*ſae*…*…sſae
¿№ae，*§§§¿și
3&&
*（.*）*）*）*）*）*）*
·、、、、、、、、、、、
******）∞
**、、、、、、、、、、。
* * * * * ***·*→（*
≡：：:：:
&
3.
UI
º
&
*
wº
º
sº
、
§§§§§§§
ſae
§§
§§
º
*...*.
%
ź
:
º
º
sº
º
º
RESC
º
sº
gº
&
& º º
º:
:*
.#
%"?
ș*、
∞
*、、
&&№&
&&&&&&&&
¿* ģ：:、¿
！* &&&&&&
ſae.***）3&&&&&$
***ſae<**,$****
:：:：：：:：：:g * *
§§
º
º
º
:
#
%
%
º
&
*.*.*.
:
º
%
&
&
º
&
4%
§
&
§
sº
MO
šīs******** • •
sae
<«）*）*）*）*）*）
:：:：:：:：:：：
* ** ** ***
**）
&
#
***
*...*
º
º
.
º
3.
º
º
§
&
3.
º
3.
º
ſº
º
GIAN CRUSOE
ouis
∞∞∞
º
§
º
**
.#
ș
∞ae
ae
$. （**）*）（$*、
（±（√∞
。、、。
*、、
*、、、、
$}¿
✉
š，
§§
DRWE
y L
C
✉
șğșžºš
º
.
£
.
º
s
§§
ģ§
§§§
ſae
ſae
≡
✉
Ķšșěž.š.
ſae
º
º
§§
º
º
º
º
º
≡
3
&&&&&&
&&&&&
ſae
-≡
º
.
THE N
ºngraved b
ğ
șğ
x （）|×
ſae§§§
§§§§、
ſaeSſae
ſae
ș și、、。
º 3.
º
º
&
º
șěž* }}
§§§§§ . . ， &
ſae
-。§§
✉×&&ſae
∞∞∞¿、、。¿
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
ſae。¿ſae
¿?✉ſae✉∞∞∞
§§¿*ſae
ğ∞∞∞&&&&&&&&&&&
&&&&&&
ğ
ğ
×
§§§§
&&
ğ
、
§§§§§§§§§§·
∞∞∞×∞
ğğ3§§
∞∞∞§ğ
ſae
ſae
：&
ğ
|-（（（（（
&&∞∞∞
！ğ
ſae。
ğ*§§
§§∞
✉„š
∞§§§***）$
ſae&&$
%
&&&&&
.*.*.*
№ae，ș§
§§
№
<Ģğșğ
*ſae
ğ
*（s）≡
saeſae*、
ğ*
∞
}
■ſae&ģ
、。§§§）
§§
§§§ģ
88*ș -， * * *&&
§§ğ§§ș*.*.*;§**,***）ğğğ
&&3ſae:ſae
：:：：：：：：*** ** * *，§§ğ
¿ſae
º&&&&&&&&&&
ſae
ģğ** ****。
ș:*、
ș-
ğ}<
∞∞∞
Ģ
ź3§§3
§§&&&&&&&∞∞∞∞§§！
ğș*$ğſae&&
č§
ğ！



%
º sºrºrº
rºº º
º • * : * > 8, <
*g, *, * * . *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* ..º.º.º.º.º.º.
%% wº §§ % **.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
£ 3 º' & 6. *# *š.”3% º sº..."? 3. ? ...” &
% Fº
º º % jº. $
&
ºº:
º % §º,
.*.*.* > - &
ź
* < § * º 3.3
§§
º
º
#.’ “
sº
£
º
º
º
ğ
ź
ſ:
sº
%
§
sº º &
ź
º Ž
ºğ. jº
º § º º §º
º
º º
º sº
º º
3.
{
hº
ź
º
%
º 3 $º º º º
g º §3
sº %
§§§
%
º §
& %
º º *.*.
º
ſº
.
º ...
º §º
& º
..º * * x 3. #2.*.*.*.*
3%
º
tºº. .*.*.*.
gº.º.º.º.º.
ºº:
%2
º
.*.*.*.*.*. §
gº º
º
tºº. º
- º
§3 º *.*.*.*. *.*.*.* 3.
º łº
§§§ 3 º' §.” < * g.º. º
º
x * * * * ... º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.º.
sº
º
º
& º º º %
- º º º & gº
jº ..º.º.º.º.º.º.º. $.”.º.º.º.º.º.” & “gº sº,
gº.º.º.º.º. º.º. ºx, sº a 3.” g.º.º.º.º.º.ºx.” x < *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. º
..º.º.º.º.º. º 3. * * * * * º
ºš.
º, *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
º *.*.*.*.*.*.*, ** *...*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. º
ś º º º º
+ -º º: ** **
$3 *...*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* sº
3. * < *, * §
sº & ºx.” 3 3.3% 3.
& ».º.º.º.º.º.º. º º
º º §
º º 3. ..º.º. º
- º: 3. º º
º º & 63% ****
§ º º
§3.4. tº: fº
% rººts º.º.º.
AMSTERDAM “ROBINSON CRUSOE.”
In a rare Engraving, by Picart,



















































































































































































































（§§§§:*·:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::：::::::::::::
-ſae*§§
*
×
·×----
sae-，-，-，-，-，-，*，·，≤）
×|-∞š-
：:：:::::：:：::::::：：：：-.*）*）*）*）*）*）*）ae.
¿?.J:ſº:•，,，，，,·！ ！！ ！！ --
>- -**）*）*）*）*）*）·
*…*..*..** .*s*…*…*******s*…“.
*>
...
Ş:::::
<"•
*.*.*, *, *, *
&
& & ...?... •
&_*.*.*
****
+
*.*.
::::::::::::
*
*
ſae
tº
****
º,
*.*.* * *
:::::::ºw
*
*::::
*.*.*,
*
&&
* *
ON.
S
ROBIN
§***
！！！!！!
！
&
*
ºx2
*sº
º
º
Ž
sº
º
sº
sº
sº
º
&
º
3.
º
º:
º
º
Ż
º
º
º
º
º
≤
șae
ſae
gº
sº
ae|- -
*******（№
■■■■***>№ſae
ſaeae
*******
ſae
º
º
º
S
RIDICULOU
HE
“T
、。
≤
、、、。、、。
3&&3&&3&&3&&3
§§
■■■■ &ae，
§§
、
As the cartoonist, G. V. Bridgman, sees the great castaway.