Produced by Bruce W. Miller
ROBINSON CRUSOE
IN WORDS OF ONE SYLLABLE
By Mary Godolphin
PREFACE.
The production of a book which is adapted to the use of the youngest
readers needs but few words of excuse or apology. The nature of the work
seems to be sufficiently explained by the title itself, and the author's
task has been chiefly to reduce the ordinary language into words of one
syllable. But although, as far as the subject matter is concerned, the
book can lay no claims to originality, it is believed that the idea
and scope of its construction are entirely novel, for the One Syllable
literature of the present day furnishes little more than a few short,
unconnected sentences, and those chiefly in spelling books.
The deep interest which De Foe's story has never failed to arouse in the
minds of the young, induces the author to hope that it may be acceptable
in its present form.
It should be stated that exceptions to the rule of using words of one
syllable exclusively have been made in the case of the proper names
of the boy Xury and of the man Friday, and in the titles of the
illustrations that accompany this work.
ROBINSON CRUSOE.
IN WORDS OF ONE SYLLABLE.
I was born at York on the first of March in the sixth year of the reign
of King Charles the First. From the time when I was quite a young child,
I had felt a great wish to spend my life at sea, and as I grew, so did
this taste grow more and more strong; till at last I broke loose from
my school and home, and found my way on foot to Hull, where I soon got a
place on board a ship.
When we had set sail but a few days, a squall of wind came on, and on
the fifth night we sprang a leak. All hands were sent to the pumps, but
we felt the ship groan in all her planks, and her beams quake from stem
to stern; so that it was soon quite clear there was no hope for her, and
that all we could do was to save our lives.
The first thing was to fire off guns, to show that we were in need of
help, and at length a ship, which lay not far from us, sent a boat to
our aid. But the sea was too rough for it to lie near our ship's side,
so we threw out a rope, which the men in the boat caught, and made fast,
and by this means we all got in. Still in so wild a sea it was in vain
to try to get on board the ship which had sent out the men, or to use
our oars in the boat, and all we could do was to let it drive to shore.
In the space of half an hour our own ship struck on a rock and went
down, and we saw her no more. We made but slow way to the land, which we
caught sight of now and then when the boat rose to the top of some high
wave, and there we saw men who ran in crowds, to and fro, all bent on
one thing, and that was to save us.
At last to our great joy we got on shore, where we had the luck to meet
with friends who gave us the means to get back to Hull; and if I had now
had the good sense to go home, it would have been well for me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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