Barty Crusoe and His Man Saturday

      by Frances Hodgson Burnett / Young Adult

Barty Crusoe and His Man Saturday
BARTY CRUSOE AND HIS MAN SATURDAY

Barty and the Good Wolf had everything you could imagine]

BARTY CRUSOE AND HIS MAN SATURDAY

by

FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT

Author of ”Little Lord Fauntleroy,” ”TheLittle Princess,” ”The Good Wolf,” etc.



New YorkMoffat, Yard and Company1909

Copyright, 1908, 1909, byHoliday Publishing Co.New York

Copyright, 1909, byMoffat, Yard and CompanyNew York

Entered at Stationers' HallAll Rights ReservedPublished, November, 1909

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

BARTY AND THE GOOD WOLF HAD EVERYTHING YOU COULD IMAGINE _Frontispiece_

HE WAS SO DELIGHTED WITH ROBINSON CRUSOE THAT HE COULD NOT REMEMBER THE TIME 4

”HELLO!” HE CALLED, ”WERE YOU THE ONES AT THE SNOW FEAST?” 41

”IT'S GETTING WORSE,” GASPED THE GOOD WOLF 70

BARTY LEANED FORWARD WITH HIS HANDS ON HIS KNEES AND GAZED WITH ALL HIS MIGHT 94

BARTY DREW NEARER AND THE NEXT MOMENT GAVE A SHOUT 118

THE PIRATES BEGAN TO ROW TOWARDS THE SHORE 132

”OH!” SAID THE CAPTAIN, ”I'M REALLY SMILING” 136

THE PIRATE CAPTAIN TOOK OFF HIS HAT WITH A BIG FLOURISH 146

”IT'S ANOTHER PIRATE VESSEL AND IT IS GOING TO ATTACK US” 188

”WE'VE WON! WE'VE WON!” CRIED BARTY 200



CHAPTER ONE

BARTY CRUSOE AND HIS MAN SATURDAY

I hope you remember that I told you that the story of Barty and theGood Wolf was the kind of story which could go on and on, and thatwhen it stopped it could begin again.

It was like that when Tim's mother told it to Tim, and really that waswhat Tim liked best about it--that sudden way it had of beginning allover again with something new just when you felt quite mournfulbecause you thought it had come to an end. There are very few storieslike that,--very few indeed,--so you have to be thankful when you findone.

This new part began with Barty finding an old book in the attic of hishouse. He liked the attic because you never knew what you might findthere. Once he had even found an old sword which had belonged to hisgrandfather and which _might_ have killed a man if his grandfather hadworn it in war.

One rainy day he found the book. It was a rather fat book, and it hadbeen read so much that it was falling to pieces. On the first pagethere was a picture of a very queer looking man. He was dressed inclothes made of goat skin; he carried a gun on one shoulder and aparrot on the other, and his name was printed under the picture and itwas--Robinson Crusoe.

Now, Barty was a very good reader for his age. He had to spell veryfew words when he read aloud, so he sat down at once on the atticfloor and began to read about Robinson Crusoe as fast as ever hecould. That day he was late to his dinner and was late for bed, and asthe days went on he was late so often that his mother thought he mustbe losing his appetite. But he was not. He was only so delighted withRobinson Crusoe that he could not remember the time.

That week the Good Wolf was away on very important business, and ifBarty had not had his wonderful book to read he might have feltlonely. The Good Wolf had taught him a special little tune to play onhis whistle when he wanted to call _him_ without calling all the otheranimals.

He was so delighted with Robinson Crusoe that he could not remember the time]

The day Barty finished reading his book he tucked it under his arm andran into the wood to his secret place and played his tune, and in lessthan two minutes he turned round and saw the Good Wolf trottingtowards him out of the green tunnel.

Barty ran and hugged him, and while he was hugging him the book underhis arm fell down to the grass. ”What is that?” asked the Good Wolf,and he went to it and sniffed it over carefully.

”It is a book I have been reading,” answered Barty. ”It is about a manwhose name was Robinson Crusoe. He was shipwrecked on a desertisland.”

”What is a desert island?” inquired the Good Wolf.

”It is a perfectly beautiful place with a sea all around it. Oh! Iwonder if there are any desert islands around here!”

The Good Wolf looked thoughtful. He sat down and gently scratched hisleft ear with his hind foot.

”Do you want one?” he asked. ”Let us make ourselves comfortable andtalk it over.”

So they sat down and Barty leaned against him with one arm round hisneck and began to explain. ”A desert island is a place where no onelives but you. There are no other people on it and there are no housesand no shops and you have to make yourself a hut to live in. Andbeautiful things grow wild--cocoanuts and big bunches of grapes. Andthere are goats and parrots you can tame so that they sit on yourshoulder and talk to you.”

”Do the goats sit on your shoulder and talk to you?” asked the GoodWolf, looking a little surprised.

”No, only the parrots,” said Barty. ”The goats follow you about andare friends with you. The only trouble sometimes is cannibals.”

The Good Wolf shook his head. ”I never saw a cannibal,” he remarked.

”They are not nice,” said Barty, ”they are savage black men who wantto eat people--but you can frighten them away with your gun,” he endedquite cheerfully.

Then he told about Robinson Crusoe's man Friday and about everythingelse he could remember, and the story was so interesting and excitingthat several times the Good Wolf quite panted. ”Why, I should like itmyself,” he said, ”I really should.”

”If we only knew where there _was_ a desert island,” said Barty.

The Good Wolf looked thoughtful again and once more scratched his leftear with his right foot, but there was an expression on his face whichmade Barty open his eyes very wide.

”_Do_ you know where there is one?” he cried out. ”You look as if--”

The Good Wolf stood up and shook his pink ear _very hard_--and then heshook his blue one. ”Nothing flew out,” said Barty. ”I saw nothing atall.”

”What flew out did not fly out here,” answered the Good Wolf. ”It flewout in the place where it was wanted--ten thousand miles away.”

Barty caught his breath and clapped his hands. ”I know something niceis going to happen,” he shouted, ”and it's something about a desertisland.”

”Get on my back and clasp your arms around my neck and shut youreyes,” the Good Wolf said. ”This is not a trifling matter.”

Barty scrambled up joyfully and did as he was told. The Good Wolf'sfur felt soft and thick when he laid his face against it. He shut hiseyes tight and then just for a few moments he felt as if they bothwere almost flying over the ground. They went so fast, indeed, and theair sung so in his ears as he rushed through it that it made him feeldrowsy and he soon fell asleep.

* * * * *

When he felt himself waking he was quite warm, as if the sun wereshining on him. There was a sound in his ears still; it was not therushing of the air but a sound like rushing of water, which he hadnever heard before. He had never seen the sea and knew nothing aboutwaves except what he had read in the story of Robinson Crusoe.

He sat up and stared straight before him and his eyes grew bigger, andbigger, and bigger. He was sitting on a snow-white beach and therebefore him was spread the great blue ocean, and its waves wereswelling and breaking into snowy foam, and rushing and spreading andcurling on the sand.

After he had looked straight before him for quite five minutes heturned and looked round about him. What he saw was a curve of beachand some cliffs rising from behind it. And on top of the cliffs werebig leaved plants and straight, slender palm trees which waved andwaved like spreading green feathers.

”I wonder if cocoanuts grow on them,” said Barty. ”That would be_very_ nice: Robinson Crusoe found cocoanuts.”

When he said Robinson Crusoe that made him remember. ”Why, it's adesert island,” he said. ”It's a desert island!”

Then, of course, he remembered about the Good Wolf and he turned roundto look for him. And there he sat on the sand a few feet away.

”Were we wrecked?” asked Barty.

”Well, not exactly _wrecked_,” answered the Good Wolf, ”but here weare.”

”Where is here?” asked Barty.

”Ten thousand miles from everybody,” said the Good Wolf.

”Oh,” said Barty, and his mouth was very round.

”You _said_ a desert island,” remarked the Good Wolf, watching him.

”Yes,” answered Barty, trying to speak cheerfully, because he did notwant to hurt the Good Wolf's feelings by seeming dissatisfied.”And--and it is _very_ nice and desert, isn't it?”

”It is,” answered the Good Wolf. ”I chose the kind--like RobinsonCrusoe's, you know.”

”It is a very nice one,” said Barty, ”and I am much obliged to you.”Then he dug his toe into the sand a little. ”I am just thinking aboutmy mother,” he said while he was doing it.

The Good Wolf looked as cheerful as ever. ”I had something in my pinkear which I shook out as we passed your cottage,” he chuckled. ”It's akind of scent like mignonette and it makes mothers forget the time.It's very useful in case of long journeys, because when you come backthey never say 'where have you been?' They don't know how long youhave been away. I shook out a whole lot when we passed your house andI heard your mother say 'how sweet the mignonette smells to-day!'”

Barty's face was quite cheerful by the time the Good Wolf hadfinished. ”I'm so glad I know you,” he said. ”You can do everything,can't you?” The Good Wolf looked thoughtful again (which makes threetimes), and he scratched his ear with his hind foot more seriouslythan ever.

”Look here,” he said. ”There is something I shall be obliged to tellyou.”

”What is it?” asked Barty, feeling very much interested.

”I can't do _everything_ on desert islands.”

”Can't you shake things out of your ears?” exclaimed Barty.

”No,” answered the Good Wolf. ”I won't deceive you. I can't.”

Barty could hardly gasp out ”Why?”

”Just cast your eye on them, just look at them,” said the Good Wolf.”You have been too much excited to notice them before. Do they _look_as if I could shake things out of them?”

Barty _did_ look at them and he _did_ gasp then. His voice was almosta whisper. ”No,” he answered.

The tall pink ear and the tall blue ear had dwindled until they wereonly ordinary Bad Wolf ear size. ”There is something in the air ofdesert islands that makes them dwindle away,” the Good Wolfexplained. ”I could not shake a pin out of them now.”

Barty drew a long breath, stood up straight and dug his strong littlehands into his pockets. ”Well,” he said cheerfully, ”all right. Iasked for a desert island and I've got one. We shall have to look foreverything and make everything exactly like Robinson Crusoe did. Ibelieve it will be more fun. Don't you?”

”Sure of it,” chuckled the Good Wolf. ”Quite sure of it. If we couldshake everything out of our ears when we wanted it, it would bescarcely any fun at all. It doesn't make _me_ feel mournful.”

”It doesn't make me feel mournful either,” said Barty. ”Think what alot of things we shall have to do.”

”Yes,” the Good Wolf answered. ”We shall have to find a place to sleepin and things to eat and a fire to cook them with.”

”I wonder where we shall find the fire?” said Barty.

”I don't know yet,” the Good Wolf answered, ”but on Robinson Crusoe'sDesert Island you _did_ find things somehow.”

”It will be great fun looking for them--like playing hide-and-seek,”Barty said.

There seemed so many new things to do that he did not know where tobegin first. But the little curling edges of the waves which camespreading out on the white sand seemed just for that minute to benicer than anything else. So he sat down and began to take off hisshoes and stockings.

”I am going to wade,” he said. ”I never waded in my life. I forgotdesert islands were the seaside.”

It was so cool and lovely and splashy and it was such fun to pretendhe was going to let a wave catch him and then turn and run, shoutingand laughing away from it, that for a few moments he almost forgotabout the Good Wolf. But at last as he was running away from a bigwave, he saw him come galloping along the beach as if he had beensomewhere and was returning.

”Where did you go?” called Barty.

”Come along with me,” said the Good Wolf, ”and I will show you.”

They turned and went back to where the rocks were. There was a largecircle of them and inside the circle was a pool of quiet, clearwater. ”Here is something better than wading,” said the Good Wolf. ”Ifelt sure this was here. It is just the kind of a place you find on adesert island when you want to learn to swim. Take off your clothesand I will take you in and teach you.”

Barty took off his clothes in one minute and a half.

”Come on,” said the Good Wolf. ”Catch hold of my hair and hold tight,just at first.” And in he jumped and Barty with him.

The water had been warmed by the sun and was as clear as crystal. Itwasn't too deep, either.

”Do exactly as I do,” the Good Wolf said when they were splashingabout together. He could swim splendidly, and Barty imitated him. Atfirst he held on to his friend's thick, shaggy coat with one hand andpaddled with the other, and kicked his legs. When he had learned whatto do with his hands and feet the Good Wolf made him splash about inthe shallower places until he began to feel quite brave, and actuallyswam a few strokes alone.

”I never, never thought I should learn to swim,” he kept shoutingjoyfully. ”See, I'm keeping up all by myself.”

”Of course you will learn to swim,” said the Good Wolf. ”It is one ofthe first things you have to do when you are wrecked on a desertisland.” By the time they decided to come out of the water Barty knewthat it would not be long before he could swim as if he were a littlefish. He felt so proud and happy that he sang out loud as he run upand down in the sun to dry himself before he put on his clothes again.There are no towels on desert islands.

”What shall we do next?” asked Barty when he had finished dressing.

”Well,” said the Good Wolf, ”supposing now that I could shake thingsout of my ears what do you think you should ask me to shake outfirst?”

Barty did not think many minutes.

”My belt,” said Barty, ”is rather loose by this time. If you couldshake things out I think I should ask you to shake out some dinner.”

”It's what I should have chosen myself,” said the Good Wolf. ”WhatRobinson Crusoe did on his desert island when he wanted his dinner,was to go and look for it until he found it.”

”Yes,” said Barty, ”I suppose we shall have to go and look too.”

”All right, it's part of the game,” said the Good Wolf. Then he lookedat Barty a little anxiously. ”Are you very hungry?” he inquired.

”Yes,” said Barty, quite like a soldier. ”So was Robinson Crusoe.That's part of the game, too.”

”Come on,” said the Good Wolf. ”You are a good companion to beshipwrecked with. There are boys of your age who might have cried andsaid they wanted to go home.”

”Oh, but I said a desert island,” answered Barty. ”And I meant adesert island. And it will be splendid finding something good to eatwhen your belt is as loose as mine.”

The Good Wolf smiled a smile which reach to his ears, and off theywent towards the place where the trees were.





CHAPTER TWO


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