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But what is worship? -- to do the will of God -- that is worship.

Impossible!

Do you suppose now, Ishmael, that the magnanimous God of heaven and earth -- pagans and all included -- can possibly be jealous of an insignificant bit of black wood?

But what is worship? thought I.

How then could I unite with this wild idolator in worshipping his piece of wood?

I was a good Christian; born and bred in the bosom of the infallible Presbyterian Church.

By certain signs and symptoms, I thought he seemed anxious for me to join him; but well knowing what was to follow, I deliberated a moment whether, in case he invited me, I would comply or otherwise.

He then went about his evening prayers, took out his idol, and removed the paper fireboard.

I let them stay.

I was going to remonstrate; but he silenced me by pouring them into me trowsers' pockets.

He made me a present of his embalmed head; took out his enormous tabacco wallet, and groping under the tobacco, drew out some thirty dollars in silver; then spreading them on the table, and mechanically dividing them into two equal portions, pushed one of them towards me, and said it was mine.

After supper, and another social chat and smoke, we went to our room together.

In a countryman, this sudden flame of friendship would have seemed far too premature, a thing to be much distrusted; but in this simple savage those old rules would not apply.

He seemed to take to me quite as naturally and unbiddenly as I to him; and when our smoke was over, he pressed his forehead against mine, clasped me round the waist, and said that henceforth we were married; meaning, in his country's phrase, that we were bosom friends; he would gladly die for...

If there yet lurked any ice of indifference towards me in the Pagan's breast, this pleasant, genial smoke we had, soon thawed it out, and left us cronies.

And then we sat exchanging puffs from that wild pipe of his, and keeping it regularly passing between us.

Soon I proposed a social smoke; and, producing his pouch and tomahawk, he quietly offered me a puff.

Thus I soon engaged his interest; and from that we went to jabbering the best we could about the various outer sights to be seen in this famous town.

We then turned over the book together, and I endeavoured to explain to him the purpose of the printing, and the meaning of the few pictures that were in it.

I told him yes; whereat I thought he looked pleased, perhaps a little complimented.