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Treasure Island

I HAVE been asked to write down all I know about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end. So I will leave nothing out, except the exact position of the island, and that is because treasure is still there. I will begin at the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow’ inn. That was when the brown old seaman first came to lodge under our roof.
I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came to the inn door, his sea-chest following be- hind him on a hand-cart. He was a strong, heavy, nut-brown man in a sailor’s dirty blue coat.

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R . L . Stevenson

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Putaiyal tīvu


Macmillan And Co Ltd

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Categories: , Tags: , Product ID: 26324


There were scars on his hands, and his nails were black and broken. Across one of his checks there was an old sword cut, which showed white against the brown of his face)
I remember how he looked round the little bay in front of the inn, whistling to himself. Then he suddenly sang the old sea song that we heard so often afterwards:-
Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest-o-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!’
He rapped on the door of the inn. When my father came, the old sailor called roughly for a glass of rum. This he drank slowly, looking round at the cliffs and the sea, and up at our old inn sign . This is a nice little spot,’ he said. Do you get much company here?’
My father told him no, very few people came. Then this is the place for me. Here, mate,’ he cried to the man who had pushed the hand- cart, bring the chest here, and help me in with it. I’ll stay here a bit,’ he said to my father. I’m a plain man. I want only rum and bacon and eggs, and to watch the ships from the top of the cliff.’



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