Treasure Island: The Original 1883 Edition With Complete Illustrations (A Robert Louis Stevenson Classic Novel)

R. Royce exited the train from Miami in Orlando. He took the first available taxi to the International Airport and picked up an airline ticket to Tulsa. He rented a peppy sub-compact at the Avis counter. He drove the low-mileage, fiery red vehicle to the mall off the Silver Lake expressway. The year 2000, too early for summer, he thought. The weather was too warm, humid, breezy, and sunny. He bought a dress shirt for business meetings, then strolled over to the food court. He ate a slice of plain cheese pizza, seasoned with garlic powder. He drove to a nearby motel and stayed in one of the all ground-level rooms in the back building, away from traffic noise. He parked the car in one of the row spaces just outside his door. He went inside his room and watched cable television for a while, then walked over to the Steakhouse on the corner for dinner. He returned to the room, performed a series of calisthenics, and went to bed. He planned to fly to Oklahoma to visit family and friends and get back in shape for military reserve duty in Maryland immediately afterwards. He had orders. His flight was scheduled to depart at one thirty p.m. the next day. He awoke early the next day and completed a regimen of three S's: shave, shower, and shampoo. He felt squeaky clean and fully refreshed, from the tip of his nose to the tips of his toes. He was ready to greet the dawn of a new day. He opened the motel room door to let the sunshine in, so he would feel the full effect of the southern exposure. He was calm and relaxed. Within a few moments, two tall, dark males in their late 20's, one heavy-set and flabby, with loose-fitting black polo shirt and charcoal Docker pants; the other of lighter complexion, comparatively, and average build, but muscular and high-strung, wearing a green plaid button-down shirt and nondescript jeans, sauntered and shuffled into the room. One of them closed the door. Royce stood up and faced them. He asked simply, "What are you doing?" In lieu of a courteous reply or a reasonable explanation, the mean-looking perpetrator lifted a Saturday night special out of his pants pocket, canted the hand grip sideways ninety degrees, and raised the pistol above his head angled forward and slightly downward, the barrel pointing directly at Royce, giving the appearance of an L.A. gang-member greeting, or a Las Vegas gangster-style assault. He didn't know which. Several fleeting thoughts ran through Royce's mind at the time. First and foremost, "Was this a hit?" Didn't make sense, they didn't act quickly and decisively enough. The milliseconds ticked by. They weren't professionals. "Thank God!" Robbers. His heavy hard-sided suitcase. The porter at the train station had lifted it and felt its bulkiness. The Avis parking valet eyed it. He was after all coming from Miami. Must be money, narcotics, or valuable merchandise. He was too far from the telephone, couldn't dial fast enough. Average people don't do well in pressure situations, he'd learned. If he had to react, he would have to equalize the odds. Gun. Martial Arts. Stiletto. Not while traveling commercial carrier. He could throw the lamp to distract them. Under different circumstances, he could be a dangerous adversary. In the present circumstances, his repertoire of defense mechanisms included wit, charm, personality, and grace. Plus, he didn't want to pay for damages to the motel room and furniture. He was under orders. He didn't want to have to explain his delay or absence to the duty officer. He focused on, carefully scrutinized the revolver. He saw no lead or copper tips protruding from inside the five-shot cylinder. Probably empty. He would play along and see if it helped matters to cooperate. They were muggers. Purse snatchers. Crude, petty thieves. Tough guys who end up in jail, the hospital, and the morgue. Common small-time criminals. They are always eventually apprehended. Beastly told Royce to empty his pockets. He stepped toward Royce in order to collect his wallet and the gold Yachtmaster watch he was wearing on his wrist. Intensely Ugly continued to cover him with the raised revolver. He never said a single word throughout the grim proceedings. Fat City Beast instructed him to go into the bathroom and stay there for thirty minutes, until they were gone. They must have practiced their strong-arm technique before. Not hearing any more noises, Royce peeked out of the bathroom after two or three minutes. He saw his suitcase had been left opened and upright on the floor. The contents had been thoroughly rifled through, but his belongings were intact. He opened the motel room door and looked cautiously outside. He saw nothing moving and nothing out of the ordinary. The two of them had fled the scene. His car was in the same parking spot. He went over to the telephone on the nightstand and called the front desk to report the robbery to the police. Next he retrieved the car key from the side pocket in his leisure slacks. He went outside to the vehicle and opened the trunk. The trunk contained his carry-on bag, from which he extracted a checkbook and a second, backup credit card. Inside the checkbook was the toll-free phone number to his stolen credit card company. He reported the theft over the phone and asked the company representative politely to cancel the card. The local police arrived within ten or fifteen minutes and he reported the details of the crime. Royce was invited to the police station to look at current suspect photographs, but none of them matched. The Orlando Chamber of Commerce offered to reimburse him for the hundred dollar loss, but he would not accept the money. They were concerned about their image. How it might affect tourism. He felt that he was justified with his actions. The police returned the victim to his motel in a timely, professional manner. He found that he had plenty of time to return the vehicle to the airport and catch his flight to Tulsa. He'd dodged another bullet, and he'd kept his promise never again to fly out of Miami. I've wanted to read the book, Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson ever since I was a kid, and finished reading the novel only yesterday, generations after my childhood years have long ago elapsed. You must have cherished the memory of Disney pirate adventures from childhood just as much as you did the the idea of Robin Hood's adventures in Sherwood Forest, and those of King Arthur, Merlin the Magician, and the bold, chivalrous Knights of the Round Table. Then, suddenly one day you grew up, had to earn a living, and care for your family. You woke up and arrived at the stark realization, "You aren't playing basketball in Kansas anymore." Similarly, I'd read the story book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by Frank Baum in its entirety as a child and was fascinated by the imaginary, fantasy world. While in college, I'd asked fellow students during our fireside chats on favorite books and interesting reading material naively, "Do you know why they call 'Emerald City' by that particular name?" Even today, I like surrounding myself with intelligent people. It turns out no one I met had admitted to ever having read the book. Certainly, they'd seen the movie on television, but they'd never really read and understood the book. So, I guess, it just goes to show you, many people will go through life and never really know for sure the reason why. You cross the t's and dot the i's. Carry on.

A very good and classic story, but not as exciting as I thought it would be. I would recommend it to anyone wanting to read classics.

Much as it pains me to negatively review a beloved American classic, this product is an utter travesty. It takes a truly cynical publisher with no respect for the actual literature to produce and market it like this. There are no NC Wyeth illustrations in this book. There are some crappy line drawings, presumably because they require very little ink. Anyone familiar with this book knows about half its greatness is thanks to the illustrations of Wyeth that brought the story and characters to life with visions of adventure that you could stare at in wonder for hours. There is a Wyeth illustration on the cover and that's it. Even that is grainy and looks like it was printed on a mid 2000s home Epson printer. If that wasn't enough, even the text and formatting looks cheap as if printed at home. You don't feel like you're reading a real book. When I first flipped through it I figured this must be some bootleg Chinese knock-off. I wondered if an actual publishing company was even listed in it somewhere. I turned to the copyright page to check. "Printed by Amazon."Amazon is intent on one thing only, making money, as much as possible and by whatever means, often through bait and switch tactics. That is what this product is. The title of an American classic, an illustration slapped on the cover by one of our country's greatest artists, and the letters and text of the book. Everything else is junk in this. What Amazon is doing is taking advantage of the literature and the art and its legacy and then bastardizing it. The real evil genius to it is that it will never get negative reviews, because who would ever negatively review a book like Treasure Island? Don't fall for it.

Because it was required reading in school when I was younger, I've read this book multiple times. A young boy finds a treasure map and embarks on an expedition to find the hidden treasure in this timeless tale. It follows Jim on his quest to find the lost riches, the difficulties he faces, and how he returns his people to safety.With little emphasis on moral values, this book is recognized as one of the earliest adventure stories made specifically for teenagers. The main idea of this book is that nice and honest people triumph while cruel and cunning people pay for their heinous deeds.This book is not the same version I read, and the state of the book is quite sad. The original's incredible artwork have been replaced with some humorous small visuals. The book may be readable for someone reading it for the first time, but for me, the pictures it provided were what made it excellent in the first place.

I finally found some time to read something that was recommended to me a long time ago. It is said that this is a book for boys, but I guess it is for boys in the same manner as Harry Potter was written for boys as well - and look where that led to.I enjoyed this adventure quite a bit, not knowing what might happen next. It appears that the writer's favorite character was Long Jonh Silver, the Sea Cook, and since I can see that in this character Jack Sparrow found an inspirational role model, I can honestly say I like him the best as well.Well, as the title suggests, this is a book about an island with a hidden treasure. There is one secret map, three good men, and a ship fool of pirates pretending to be ordinary sailors.

The pirate adventure! A classic, all piracy movies, comics, and shows looks to be inspired by this book. Very well written and enjoyable to read. Suits all ages. One of the best adventures I have read.

L'édition Kindle est complète et gratuite, mais elle est en anglais, ça existe en français aussi. J'étais replongé dans mon enfance, merveilleux livre d'aventures.

Can't say I've ever read it before, and while some of it was a bit tough to understand, it was a great story and well worth the read.

Cool

念願のＴｒｅａｓｕｒｅ　Ｉｓｌａｎｄ、和訳　宝島も古い日本語なので苦戦しながらーーー