Yr Ynys Unyg

Julia de Winton
Yr Ynys Unyg, by Julia de
Winton

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Title: Yr Ynys Unyg The Lonely Island
Author: Julia de Winton
Release Date: October 20, 2007 [EBook #23090]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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UNYG ***

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[Illustration]

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.
The oe ligature has been represented by [oe].

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.
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