We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
BOOK I-16
“I DON’T WANT MY OLD britches on! I don’t want my old britches on!” Dick was darting about naked on the sand, Mr. Button after him with a pair of small trousers in his hand. A crab might just as well have attempted to chase an antelope. They had been on the island a fortnight, and d**k had discovered the keenest joy in life to be naked. To be naked and wallow in the shallows of the lagoon, to be naked and sit drying in the sun. To be free from the curse of clothes, to shed civilisation on the beach in the form of breeches, boots, coat, and hat, and to be one with the wind and the sun and the sea. The very first command Mr. Button had given on the second morning of their arrival was, “Strip and into the water wid you.” Dick had resisted at first, and Emmeline (who rarely wept) had stood
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD