The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert IslandWyss, Johann David
General
The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert Island
Wyss, Johann David
Family life -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Survival -- Fiction
"Not a bit," said he; "why, you can't compare the two names. Fancy
mother saying, 'Here comes Franz on Grumble, but Jack riding on the
Storm.' Oh, it sounds sublime!"
We named the two puppies Bruno and Fawn, and so ended this important
domestic business.
For two months we worked steadily at our salt-cave, in order to complete
the necessary arrangement of partition walls, so as to put the rooms and
stalls for the animals in comfortable order for the next long rainy
season, during which time, when other work would be at a standstill, we
could carry on many minor details for the improvement of the abode.
We leveled the floors first with clay; then spread gravel mixed with
melted gypsum over that, producing a smooth, hard surface, which did
very well for most of the apartments; but I was ambitious of having one
or two carpets and set about making a kind of felt in the following way:
I spread out a large piece of sailcloth, and covered it equally all over
with a strong liquid, made of glue and isinglass, which saturated it
thoroughly. On it we then laid wool and hair from the sheep and goats,
which had been carefully cleaned and prepared, and rolled and beat it
until it adhered tolerably smoothly to the cloth. Finally it became,
when perfectly dry, a covering for the floor of our sitting room by no
means to be despised.
One morning, just after these labors at the salt-cave were completed,
happening to awake unusually early, I turned my thoughts, as I lay
waiting for sunrise, to considering what length of time we had now
passed on this coast, and discovered, to my surprise, that the very next
day would be the anniversary of our escape from the wreck. My heart
swelled with gratitude to the gracious God, who had then granted us
deliverance, and ever since had loaded us with benefits; and I resolved
to set to-morrow apart as a day of thanksgiving, in joyful celebration
of the occasion.
My mind was full of indefinite plans when I rose, and the day's work
began as usual. I took care that everything should be cleaned, cleared,
and set in order both outside and inside our dwelling; none, however,
suspecting that there was any particular object in view. Other more
private preparations I also made for the next day. At supper I made the
coming event known to the assembled family.
"Good people, do you know that to-morrow is a very great and important
day? We shall have to keep it in honor of our merciful escape to this
land, and call it Thanksgiving-Day."
Everyone was surprised to hear that we had already been twelve months in
the country--indeed, my wife believed I might be mistaken, until I
showed her how I had calculated regularly ever since the 31st of
January, on which day we were wrecked, by marking off in my almanac the
Sundays as they arrived for the remaining eleven months of that year.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account