Good evening. Welcome to the Just Sleep podcast. I'm Tasia, your host.

Every week, I will read you an old story to help you relax,

but the stressful day behind you and drift off to sleep.

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Tonight, I will be reading Treasure Island by Robert Lewis Stevenson.

So lie down, close your eyes, and let me read you a story.

Chapter 1, The Old Se Dog at the Admiral Bembo.

Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down

the whole particulars about Treasure Island,

from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island,

and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted,

I take up my pen in the year of Grace 17, and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow in, and the brown

old seaman, with a sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof. I remember him as if it

were yesterday as he came plodding to the indoor, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow,

a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulder of his soiled

blue coat, his hands ragged and scarred with black broken nails, and the saber cut across one cheek,

a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking

round the cove and whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old

sea song that he sang so often afterwards, 15 men on the dead man's chest, yo, ho, ho, and a bottle

...