Treasure Island 9781406325911

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Автор: Stevenson Robert Louis (Стивенсон Роберт Льюис )
Название: Treasure Island
Перевод названия: Роберт Люис Стивенсон: Остров сокровищ
ISBN: 9781406325911
Издательство: Walker Books
Классификация:

Детская классическая художественная литература

Детская приключенческая литература

ISBN-10: 1406325910
Обложка/Формат: Paperback
Страницы: 272
Вес: 0.77 кг.
Дата издания: 06.09.2010
Иллюстрации: Illustrations
Размер: 210 x 180 x 24
Читательская аудитория: Children`s (6-12)
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Поставляется из: Англии
Описание: This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1918. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER I THE OLD SEA DOG AT THE ADMIRAL BENBOW SQUIRE Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17--, and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof. I remember him as if it we/e yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow; a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man; his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat; his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails; and the sabre cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking round the cove and whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so often afterwards: -- Fifteen men on The Dead Mans Chest-- Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of mm in the high, old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned and broken at the capstan bars. Then he rapped on the door with a bit of stick like a handspike that he carried, and when my father appeared, called roughly for a glass of rum. This, when it was brought to him, he drank slowly, like a connoisseur, lingering on the taste, and still looking about him at the cliffs and up at our sign-board. This is a handy cove, says he, at length; and a pleasant sittyated grog-shop. Much company, mate? My father told him no, very little company, the more was the pity. Well, then, said he, this is the berth for me. Here you, matey, he cried to the man who trun...

Treasure Island, Stevenson Robert Louis