Ahab's Adventure's In Wonderland; or The Rabbit

Chapter Eight

Franklin was a native of Columbia, a city far away to the South.

When a new-hatched savage running wild about his native woodlands in a grass clout, followed by the nibbling goats, as if he were a green sapling; even then, in Franklin's ambitious soul, lurked a strong desire to see something more of Christendom than a stagecoach or two. His grandfather had been a High Chief, a King; his great-uncle a High Priest; and on the maternal side he boasted aunts who were the wives of unconquerable warriors. There was excellent blood in his veins--royal stuff; though sadly vitiated, I fear, by his father's transportation to the New World.

A Sag Harbor ship visited his father's bay, and brought him passage to Christian lands. And thus an old idolator at heart, he came to live among these Christians, wore their clothes, and tried to talk their gibberish. Thus Franklin was born in Columbia and not West Africa, born into slavery, rather than royalty. I know many a Christian who would say that what he gave up in the way of Earthly riches paid for the greater profit of his soul's salvation. I wonder what Franklin might say to such a supposition, but I daren't ask, nor do I think would I have received an answer had I done so.

By hints I inquired whether he did not propose going back, and having a coronation; since he might now consider his grandfather dead and gone, he being very old and feeble at the last accounts. He answered no, not yet; and added that he was fearful Christianity, or rather Christians, had unfitted him for ascending the pure and undefiled throne of thirty pagan Kings before him. But by and by, he said, he would return,--as soon as he felt himself baptized again. For the nonce, however, he proposed to stay in the North, where he was considered free, and sow his wild oats in all the free states. They had made a plowman of him, and that sharpened iron was in lieu of a sceptre now.

I asked him what might be his immediate purpose, touching his future movements. He answered, to go to farm again, in his old vocation. Upon this, I told him that farming was my own design, and informed him of my intention to farm in New Bedford, as being the most promising spot for an diligent farmer to work on. He at once resolved to accompany me to that island, get into the same mess with me, in short to share my every hap; with both my hands in his, boldly dip into the Potluck of both worlds. To all this I joyously assented; for besides the affection I now felt for Franklin, he was an experienced plowman, and as such, could not fail to be of great usefulness to one, who, like me, was wholly ignorant of the mysteries of farming, though well acquainted with the farm.

His story being ended with hispipe's last dying puff, Franklin embraced me, pressed his forehead againstmine, and blowing out the light, we rolled over from each other, this way andthat, and very soon were sleeping.