Yr Ynys Unyg; or, The lonely island : $b a narrative for young people

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                   YR YNYS UNYG;

                        OR,

                 THE LONELY ISLAND:


                    A NARRATIVE

                        FOR

                   YOUNG PEOPLE.


    "Beseech you, be merry: we have cause
    Of joy: for our escape
    Is much beyond our loss: our hint of woe
    Is common: every day, some sailor's wife,
    The masters of some merchant, and the merchant
    Have just our theme of woe: but for the miracle,
    I mean our preservation, few in millions
    Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
    Our sorrow with our comfort."--_Tempest._



                      LONDON:
 SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND CO., STATIONERS' HALL COURT;
    GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND CO., FARRINGDON STREET.

     NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE: F. AND W. DODSWORTH.

                       1852.




Transcriber's Note:

    Archaic and dialect spellings remain as printed. Punctuation has
    been normalised. Significant errors have been noted at the end of
    the text.




INTRODUCTION.


DEAR FRIEND,

I enclose you the manuscript of which you have so long desired
possession. You have permission to do what you like with it, on one
condition, which is, that you alter all the names, and expunge anything
like personality therein; for, as you are aware (with two exceptions)
each character mentioned in the story is now alive, and so few years
have elapsed since the events recorded took place that it would not be
at all difficult for a stranger to recognize the heroes and heroines
therein mentioned. Having settled that business, I now proceed to say,
that as the narrative begins very abruptly, you will find it necessary
to have some little personal account of the parties concerned, which I
will lose no time in giving you. The mother of the party you know so
well I need say nothing further of her than that she was about 27 when
these events occurred; what her age is now, I must be excused telling,
inasmuch as it has nothing to do with the story, and it is her own
concern, and it will too certainly expose the time of the narrative and
other things she wished left in obscurity. Mrs. E., the little mother,
as she is called by every one, was the second in command. A greater
contrast to her cousin could not exist. Short, and rather stout, she
trotted by the side of her companion, as the little hippopotamus by the
side of the giraffe. Both their eyes were dark, but the mother's were
soft, and the little mother's so brilliant when she fixed her eyes on
you, you must tell what you thought, as they penetrated into the heart.
Her broad forehead showed the prevalence of the intellectual powers, and
the reliance on her own sense and judgment. To be sure some people
called her very masculine, and it is true that, when equipped in her
riding gear, and ready to get into her second home (the saddle), she
certainly slaps her tiny boots with her whip, walks round her horse,
examines his legs, and questions her groom as to the throwing out of
curbs, and other mysteries, known as stable lore. The horse has his nose
twitched that she may get into the saddle before the usual kicking scene
commences; once there, he may do what he likes, she is part of her
horse, and enjoys his gambols as much as himself. When in female
garments, though somewhat brusque in manners and blunt in speech, she is
a true woman, and as feminine in heart as the fairest and most delicate
among the sex. Madame, the governess, must occupy our attention the
next. She was the kindest, best, most loving guardian over her flock,
and seemed to have but one unhappiness in the world, and that was her
utter inability to keep in order and understand one rebellious pupil
among them. But I will not tell tales out of school. Sybil and Serena
were the mother's young sisters, 13 and 14 years of age, innocent, gay,
and happy creatures, blessed with beauty and sense above the common lot.
Gertrude, or Gatty, was the child of an old and valued friend. She was
about 12, with the wit, the quickness, the sense of 20, and I had almost
said the size, for so large a proportion of flesh, blood, and bones
rarely fall to the lot of male or female at that age. She was
alternately the soul of fun and merriment or the plague and torment of
every one about her. She had the judgment of mature age and the nonsense
of the greatest baby in her. The mother alone obtained unlimited
obedience from her. I am afraid I have discovered the "unruly one," but
all the characters shall speak for themselves. The mother's own children
were three in number. Oscar, a fine tall active boy, with a grave quick
demeanour, but the open brow and frank sweet smile won him the love of
every one.