"And ships are different, too, to what they were then, Jo," said Dan,
closing the book. "Stronger and better built. I dare say if it had
been a very strong ship that Robinson Crusoe went out in, he wouldn't
have been wrecked."
"I am glad he was, though; if he hadn't been, we shouldn't have been
able to read about him. It is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Beautiful to read," replied Dan. "But he was dreadfully miserable
sometimes; for twenty-four years and more he had no one to speak to.
It appears strange to me that he didn't forget how to speak the
English language, and that he didn't go mad. Now, Jo, supposing it was
you! Do you think, if you had no one to speak to for twenty years,
that you would be able to speak as well as you do now? Don't you think
you would stammer over a word sometimes, and lose the sense of it?"
Dan asked these questions so earnestly, that Joshua laughed, and
said,--
"Upon my word, I don't know, Dan."
But the time was to come when the memory of Dan's questions came to
Joshua's mind with a deep and solemn significance. "He had his parrot
certainly," continued Dan; "but what used he to say to it? 'Robin,
Robin, Robin Crusoe! Poor Robin Crusoe! How came you here? Where have
you been, Robin?' That wasn't much to say, and to be always saying;
and I am sure that if he kept on saying it for so many years, he must
have entirely forgotten what the meaning of it was. You try it,--say a
word, or two or three words, for a hundred times. You will begin to
wonder what it means before you come to the end."
"But he had his Bible; and you know what a comfort that was to him."
"Perhaps that was the reason he didn't go mad. I dare say, too, that
some qualities in him were strengthened and came to his aid because he
was so strangely situated. What qualities now, Jo?"
"I don't understand you, Dan."
"I _do_ say things sometimes you don't understand at first, don't I,
Jo?"
Joshua nodded good-humoredly.
"I am often puzzled myself to know what I mean. Leaving Robinson
Crusoe alone, and speaking of qualities, Jo, take me for an instance.
I am a cripple, and shall never be able to go about. And do you know,
Jo, that my mind is stronger than it would have been if I were not
helpless? I can see things."
"Can you see any thing now, Dan?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"I can see something that will separate you and me, Jo."
"Forever, Dan?"
"No, not forever; we shall be together sometimes and then you can tell
me all sorts of things that I shall never be able to see myself."
"Don't you think your legs will ever get strong?" asked Joshua.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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