_ CHAPTER XLII. ROBINSON AT HOME
It was with a sad heart that Robinson made ready to leave. Every familiar place seemed now doubly dear to him. He went from one to another with tears in his eyes. Here lay his home. Here were his fields, his crops and his goats. Everything was the work of his own hands. He had made them all. Which should he take? He hesitated long. He must take home some of his belongings to show the people at home. And there were his parrot and the dog which had won a place in Robinson's heart. He decided to take them along. At length he got together his diary, his parasol, his Bible, his treasures, a suit of clothes, his dog, and a hat. He had saved, too, his bow and arrows. These he decided to take along. Everything else he gave to his good man Friday and the Spaniard who wished to be allowed to remain on the island.
Robinson kissed Friday tenderly. He with great effort finally tore himself away and ran to the shore where the ship's boat awaited him. But Robinson had not counted on the strength of Friday's love for him. Robinson's boat had
not yet reached the ship when Friday sprang into the water and swam after him shouting, "Master, take me with you, I would rather die than stay here without you." Robinson was touched at the devotion showed by the faithful Friday, and gave orders to turn the boat back, and take him on board. The anchor was raised. The ship started on her way to the home Robinson had left so long ago.
The wind was favorable and in seven weeks the spires and buildings of his native city were in sight. His vessel came slowly up to the wharf where he had taken ship so many years ago. Here, too, he had played and idled his time away. He remembered it all. His idleness and playing truant came back in sad memories. Before Robinson and Friday landed, their good friend the captain gave them each a new suit of clothes.
Everything had changed. He scarcely knew the place. He was astonished and confused by the din, hurry and bustle of a great city. Friday seemed dazed by it all and clung to Robinson's side. The buildings were so tall, the street cars, the carriages were different. Everywhere there were iron machines, casting out smoke, puffing and running about on iron rails. Robinson had never seen these.
Robinson, however, did not stop to admire; he pushed on to a certain street and house where lived his parents at the time of his departure. It was with difficulty that he found the place. It was now in the heart of the city. Upon inquiry he found, after much searching, that his father had removed his store and home to another part of the city, his mother had died of grief for her disobedient son. Robinson was sorely grieved at this. He had hoped to see her and tell her how sorry he was that he had caused her so much anxiety and sorrow.
When he had found the place where his father lived he stole quietly up to the house and opened the door. His father, now a gray-haired man, bent with age and sorrow, was sitting in his armchair reading.
Robinson came forward, but his father did not recognize him. "Who are you?" he said. "I am Robinson, your long-lost son." He knelt by his father's side and asked forgiveness for all the trouble he had caused. His father was overcome. He could not speak. He drew Robinson with feeble hands to his breast. "My son, I forgive you," he said.
Robinson's boyhood friends heard of his strange return. They had thought him dead long ago. They never tired of hearing him tell his strange story. They pitied him in his misfortune. But Robinson told them that it all happened to him because he was idle and disobedient in his youth.
Robinson at once relieved his father at the store. The business thrived. His father died. He soon had a home of his own with a happy family. Friday, the dog, and the parrot lived in it, dearly beloved and cared for by their master the rest of their days. In the home there is a young Robinson who loves to hear his father read from his diary of the wonderful things that happened on the island.
Robinson tried many times to find the rightful owner of the gold and jewels, but never succeeded. At last he gave them to a school where boys with idle habits were taught to lead useful and industrious lives.
[THE END]
Samuel Buell Allison's Book: American Robinson Crusoe
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