ROBINSON CRUSOE. 189

him a boat to go back to his own nation ; and accordingly, I
carried him to my frigate, which lay on the other side of the
island, and having cleared it of water (for I always kept it sunk
in water), I brought it out, showed it him, and we both went
into it. I found he was a most dexterous fellow at managing
it, and would make it go almost as swift again as I could. So
when he was in, I said to him, “ Well, now Friday, shall we go
to your nation?” He looked very dull at my saying so ; which
it seems was because he thought the boat too small to go so
far. Ithen told himI had a bigger; so the next day I went to
the place were the first boat lay which I had made, but which
I could not get into the water. He said that was big enough ;
but then as I had taken no care of it, and it had lain two or
three and twenty years there, the sun had split and dried it,
that it was rotten. Friday told me such a boat would do very
well, and would carry “much enough vittle, drink, bread ;”—
that was his way of talking.

Upon the whole, I was by this time so fixed upon my design
of going over with him to the continent, that I told him we
would go and make one as big as that, and he should go home
in it. He answered not one word, but looked very grave and
sad. I asked him what was the matter with him. He asked
me again, “ Why you angry mad with Friday ?—what me done?”
I asked him what he meant. I told him I was not angry with
him at all. “No angry !” says he, repeating the words several
times ; “ why send Friday home away to my nation?” “ Why,”
says I, “ Friday, did not you say you wished you were there?”
“Ves, yes,” says he, “wish we both there ; no wish Friday
there, no master there.’ In a word he would not think of
going there without me. “Igo there, Friday? ” says 1; “ what
shall I do there?” He turned very quick upon me at this.
“You do great deal much good,” says he ; “ you teach wild
mans be good, sober, tame mans ; you tell them know God,
pray God, and live new life.” “ Alas, Friday !” says I, “ thou
knowest not what thou sayest; I am but an ignorant man
myself.” ‘Yes, yes,” says he, “you teachee me good, you
teachee them good.” “No, no, Friday,” says I, “you shall go
without me ; leave me here to live by myself, as I did before.”
He looked confused again at that word ; and running to one of
the hatchets which he used to wear, he takes it up hastily, and
gives it tome. “What must Ido with this?” says I to him.
“You take kill Friday,” says he. ‘‘ What must I kill you for? ¥
said I again. He returns very quick— What you send Friday
eway for? Take kill Friday, no send Friday away.” This he