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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. AFTER the 32nd chapter of TREASURE ISLAND, two of the puppets strolled out to have a pipe before business should begin again, and met in an open place not far from the story.

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Publié par
Date de parution 23 octobre 2010
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9782819917380
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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I. - THE PERSONS OF THE TALE.
AFTER the 32nd chapter of TREASURE ISLAND, two ofthe puppets strolled out to have a pipe before business shouldbegin again, and met in an open place not far from the story.
"Good-morning, Cap'n," said the first, with aman-o'-war salute, and a beaming countenance.
"Ah, Silver!" grunted the other. "You're in a badway, Silver."
"Now, Cap'n Smollett," remonstrated Silver, "dootyis dooty, as I knows, and none better; but we're off dooty now; andI can't see no call to keep up the morality business."
"You're a damned rogue, my man," said theCaptain.
"Come, come, Cap'n, be just," returned the other."There's no call to be angry with me in earnest. I'm on'y achara'ter in a sea story. I don't really exist."
"Well, I don't really exist either," says theCaptain, "which seems to meet that."
"I wouldn't set no limits to what a virtuouschara'ter might consider argument," responded Silver. "But I'm thevillain of this tale, I am; and speaking as one sea-faring man toanother, what I want to know is, what's the odds?"
"Were you never taught your catechism?" said theCaptain. "Don't you know there's such a thing as an Author?"
"Such a thing as a Author?" returned John,derisively. "And who better'n me? And the p'int is, if the Authormade you, he made Long John, and he made Hands, and Pew, and GeorgeMerry - not that George is up to much, for he's little more'n aname; and he made Flint, what there is of him; and he made thishere mutiny, you keep such a work about; and he had Tom Redruthshot; and - well, if that's a Author, give me Pew!"
"Don't you believe in a future state?" saidSmollett. "Do you think there's nothing but the presentstory-paper?"
"I don't rightly know for that," said Silver; "and Idon't see what it's got to do with it, anyway. What I know is this:if there is sich a thing as a Author, I'm his favourite chara'ter.He does me fathoms better'n he does you - fathoms, he does. And helikes doing me. He keeps me on deck mostly all the time, crutch andall; and he leaves you measling in the hold, where nobody can't seeyou, nor wants to, and you may lay to that! If there is a Author,by thunder, but he's on my side, and you may lay to it!"
"I see he's giving you a long rope," said theCaptain. "But that can't change a man's convictions. I know theAuthor respects me; I feel it in my bones; when you and I had thattalk at the blockhouse door, who do you think he was for, myman?"
"And don't he respect me?" cried Silver. "Ah, youshould 'a' heard me putting down my mutiny, George Merry and Morganand that lot, no longer ago'n last chapter; you'd heard somethingthen! You'd 'a' seen what the Author thinks o' me! But come now, doyou consider yourself a virtuous chara'ter clean through?"
"God forbid!" said Captain Smollett, solemnly. "I ama man that tries to do his duty, and makes a mess of it as often asnot. I'm not a very popular man at home, Silver, I'm afraid!" andthe Captain sighed.
"Ah," says Silver. "Then how about this sequel ofyours? Are you to be Cap'n Smollett just the same as ever, and notvery popular at home, says you? And if so, why, it's TREASUREISLAND over again, by thunder; and I'll be Long John, and Pew'll bePew, and we'll have another mutiny, as like as not. Or are you tobe somebody else? And if so, why, what the better are you? and whatthe worse am I?"
"Why, look here, my man," returned the Captain, "Ican't understand how this story comes about at all, can I? I can'tsee how you and I, who don't exist, should get to speaking here,and smoke our pipes for all the world like reality? Very well,then, who am I to pipe up with my opinions? I know the Author's onthe side of good; he tells me so, it runs out of his pen as hewrites. Well, that's all I need to know; I'll take my chance uponthe rest."
"It's a fact he seemed to be against George Merry,"Silver admitted, musingly. "But George is little more'n a name atthe best of it," he added, brightening. "And to get into soundingsfor once. What is this good? I made a mutiny, and I been agentleman o' fortune; well, but by all stories, you ain't no suchsaint. I'm a man that keeps company very easy; even by your ownaccount, you ain't, and to my certain knowledge you're a devil tohaze. Which is which? Which is good, and which bad? Ah, you tell methat! Here we are in stays, and you may lay to it!"
"We're none of us perfect," replied the Captain."That's a fact of religion, my man. All I can say is, I try to domy duty; and if you try to do yours, I can't compliment you on yoursuccess."
"And so you was the judge, was you?" said Silver,derisively.
"I would be both judge and hangman for you, my man,and never turn a hair," returned the Captain. "But I get beyondthat: it mayn't be sound theology, but it's common sense, that whatis good is useful too - or there and thereabout, for I don't set upto be a thinker. Now, where would a story go to if there were novirtuous characters?"
"If you go to that," replied Silver, "where would astory begin, if there wasn't no villains?"
"Well, that's pretty much my thought," said CaptainSmollett. "The Author has to get a story; that's what he wants; andto get a story, and to have a man like the doctor (say) given aproper chance, he has to put in men like you and Hands. But he's onthe right side; and you mind your eye ! You're not through thisstory yet; there's trouble coming for you."
"What'll you bet?" asked John.
"Much I care if there ain't," returned the Captain."I'm glad enough to be Alexander Smollett, bad as he is; and Ithank my stars upon my knees that I'm not Silver. But there's theink-bottle opening. To quarters!"
And indeed the Author was just then beginning towrite the words: CHAPTER XXXIII.
II. - THE SINKING SHIP.
"SIR," said the first lieutenant, bursting into theCaptain's cabin, "the ship is going down."
"Very well, Mr. Spoker," said the Captain; "but thatis no reason for going about half-shaved. Exercise your mind amoment, Mr. Spoker, and you will see that to the philosophic eyethere is nothing new in our position: the ship (if she is to godown at all) may be said to have been going down since she waslaunched."
"She is settling fast," said the first lieutenant,as he returned from shaving.
"Fast, Mr. Spoker?" asked the Captain. "Theexpression is a strange one, for time (if you will think of it) isonly relative."
"Sir," said the lieutenant, "I think it is scarcelyworth while to embark in such a discussion when we shall all be inDavy Jones's Locker in ten minutes."
"By parity of reasoning," returned the Captaingently, "it would never be worth while to begin any inquiry ofimportance; the odds are always overwhelming that we must diebefore we shall have brought it to an end. You have not considered,Mr. Spoker, the situation of man," said the Captain, smiling, andshaking his head.
"I am much more engaged in considering the positionof the ship," said Mr. Spoker.
"Spoken like a good officer," replied the Captain,laying his hand on the lieutenant's shoulder.
On deck they found the men had broken into thespirit-room, and were fast getting drunk.
"My men," said the Captain, "there is no sense inthis. The ship is going down, you will tell me, in ten minutes:well, and what then? To the philosophic eye, there is nothing newin our position. All our lives long, we may have been about tobreak a blood-vessel or to be struck by lightning, not merely inten minutes, but in ten seconds; and that has not prevented us fromeating dinner, no, nor from putting money in the Savings Bank. Iassure you, with my hand on my heart, I fail to comprehend yourattitude."
The men were already too far gone to pay muchheed.
"This is a very painful sight, Mr. Spoker," said theCaptain.
"And yet to the philosophic eye, or whatever it is,"replied the first lieutenant, "they may be said to have beengetting drunk since they came aboard."
"I do not know if you always follow my thought, Mr.Spoker," returned the Captain gently. "But let us proceed."
In the powder magazine they found an old saltsmoking his pipe.
"Good God," cried the Captain, "what are youabout?"
"Well, sir," said the old salt, apologetically,"they told me as she were going down."
"And suppose she were?" said the Captain. "To thephilosophic eye, there would be nothing new in our position. Life,my old shipmate, life, at any moment and in any view, is asdangerous as a sinking ship; and yet it is man's handsome fashionto carry umbrellas, to wear indiarubber over-shoes, to begin vastworks, and to conduct himself in every way as if he might hope tobe eternal. And for my own poor part I should despise the man who,even on board a sinking ship, should omit to take a pill or to windup his watch. That, my friend, would not be the humanattitude."
"I beg pardon, sir," said Mr. Spoker. "But what isprecisely the difference between shaving in a sinking ship andsmoking in a powder magazine?"
"Or doing anything at all in any conceivablecircumstances?" cried the Captain. "Perfectly conclusive; give me acigar!"
Two minutes afterwards the ship blew up with aglorious detonation.
III - THE TWO MATCHES.
ONE day there was a traveller in the woods inCalifornia, in the dry season, when the Trades were blowing strong.He had ridden a long way, and he was tired and hungry, anddismounted from his horse to smoke a pipe. But when he felt in hispocket he found but two matches. He struck the first, and it wouldnot light.
"Here is a pretty state of things!" said thetraveller. "Dying for a smoke; only one match left; and thatcertain to miss fire! Was there ever a creature so unfortunate? Andyet," thought the traveller, "suppose I light this match, and smokemy pipe, and shake out the dottle here in the grass - the grassmight catch on fire, for it is dry like tinder; and while I snatchout the flames in front, they might evade and run behind me, andseize upon yon bush of poison oak; before I could reach it, thatwould have blazed up; over the b

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