Jason Koivu's Reviews > Treasure Island

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Oct 21, 13

bookshelves: favorites, fiction
Read in January, 1986

ARRrrr, me reader! Embark now on a voyage of high seas adventure with scurvy pirates, honest jack-tar sailors, marooned souls, and a vast treasure buried on some faraway island. Aye, that's Treasure Island! Weigh anchor, me laddie! The wind's always fair for gettin' this wonderful tale under way! HAHAAAAARRRGGGHHHAAAaaaa….omg, that's exhausting.
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message 1: by Jonathan (new) - added it

Jonathan Peto People had more energy then. They could talk like that, climb masts, board vessels, and even cuss. We've grown soft.


Jason Koivu Jonathan wrote: "People had more energy then. They could talk like that, climb masts, board vessels, and even cuss. We've grown soft."

No kidding! I barely started shivering me timbers before I got winded!


message 3: by Cass (new) - added it

Cass I have climbed a mast, it is not as easy at it seems.


message 4: by Jim (new)

Jim I'll be hanged in chains (or wager a sack of coin, or stake my wig, or...) if the sailing lingo is not every bit as vivid as your notice suggests.


From Project Gutenberg (HTML Version):

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/120/12...




TO THE HESITATING PURCHASER

If sailor tales to sailor tunes,
Storm and adventure, heat and cold,
If schooners, islands, and maroons,
And buccaneers, and buried gold,
And all the old romance, retold
Exactly in the ancient way,
Can please, as me they pleased of old,
The wiser youngsters of today:

—So be it, and fall on! If not,
If studious youth no longer crave,
His ancient appetites forgot,
Kingston, or Ballantyne the brave,
Or Cooper of the wood and wave:
So be it, also! And may I
And all my pirates share the grave
Where these and their creations lie!


SQUIRE TRELAWNEY, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17__ and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof.

I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow—a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulder of his soiled blue coat, his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails, and the sabre cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking round the cover and whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so often afterwards:

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest—
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"

in the high, old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned and broken at the capstan bars. Then he rapped on the door with a bit of stick like a handspike that he carried, and when my father appeared, called roughly for a glass of rum. This, when it was brought to him, he drank slowly, like a connoisseur, lingering on the taste and still looking about him at the cliffs and up at our signboard.

"This is a handy cove," says he at length; "and a pleasant sittyated grog-shop. Much company, mate?"

My father told him no, very little company, the more was the pity.

"Well, then," said he, "this is the berth for me. Here you, matey," he cried to the man who trundled the barrow; "bring up alongside and help up my chest. I'll stay here a bit," he continued. "I'm a plain man; rum and bacon and eggs is what I want, and that head up there for to watch ships off. What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. Oh, I see what you're at—there"; and he threw down three or four gold pieces on the threshold. "You can tell me when I've worked through that," says he, looking as fierce as a commander...



Mark Shivering your timbers and harhargging and yo ho hoin would be exhausting I am sure. And I thought they always said men can't multi task. Bet they won't dare say that to L J S


Riku Sayuj superb rev! LOLing away!


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