Most of us have formed an unrealistic picture of life on a desert island. We sometimes imagine a desert island to be a sort of paradise where the sun always shines. Life there is simple and good.Ripe fruit falls from the trees and you never have to work. The other side of the picture is quite the opposite. Life on a desert island is wretched. You either starve to death or live like Robinson Crusoe， waiting for a boat which never comes. Perhaps there is an element of truth in both these pictures， but few of us have had the opportunity to find out.

Two men who recently spent five days on a coral island wished they had stayed there longer. They were taking a badly damaged boat from the Virgin Islands to Miami to have it repaired. During the journey， their boat began to sink. They quickly loaded a small rubber dinghy with food， matches， and tins of beer and rowed for a few miles across the Caribbean until they arrived at a tiny coral island. There were hardly any trees on the island and there was no water， but this did not prove to be a problem. The men collected rain-water in the rubber dinghy. As they had brought a spear gun with them， they had plenty to eat. They caught lobster and fish every day， and， as one of them put it ’ate like kings’. When a passing tanker rescued them five days later， both men were genuinely sorry that they had to leave.

Lesson13 It’s only me

After her husband had gone to work， Mrs Richards sent her children to school and went upstairs to her bedroom. She was too excited to do any housework that morning， for in the evening she would be going to a fancy dress party with her husband. She intended to dress up as a ghost and as she had made her costume the night before， she was impatient to try it on. Though the costume consisted only of a sheet， it was very effective. After putting it on， Mrs Richards went downstairs. She wanted to find out whether it would be comfortable to wear.

Just as Mrs Richards was entering the dining-room， there was a knock on the front door. She knew that it must be the baker. She had told him to come straight in if ever she failed to open the door and to leave the bread on the kitchen table. Not wanting to frighten the poor man， Mrs Richards quickly hid in the small store-room under the stairs. She heard the front door open and heavy footsteps in the hall. Suddenly the door of the store-room was opened and a man entered. Mrs Richards realized that it must be the man from the Electricity Board who had come to read the meter. She tried to explain the situation， saying’ It’s only me’， but it was too late. The man let out a cry and jumped back several paces. When Mrs Richards walked towards him， he fled， slamming the door behind him.