For now I liked nothing better than to have Queequeg smoking by me,even in bed,because he seemed to be full of such serene household joy then. 

 I no more felt unduly concerned for the landlord's policy of insurance.I was only alive to the condensed confidential comfortableness of sharing a pipe and a blanket with a real friend. 

 With our shaggy jackets drawn about our shoulders,we now passed the Tomahawk from one to the other,till slowly there grew over us a blue hanging tester of smoke,illuminated by the flame of the new lit lamp. 

 But this fine young savage this sea Prince of Wales,never saw the Captain's cabin.They put him down among the sailors,and made a whaleman of him. 

 But like Czar Peter content to toil in the shipyards of foreign cities,Queequeg disdained no seeming ignominy,if thereby he might happily gain the power of enlightening his untutored countrymen. 

 For at bottom so he told me he was actuated by a profound desire to learn among the Christians,the arts whereby to make his people still happier than they were;and more than that,still better than they were. 

 But,alas!the practices of whalemen soon convinced him that even Christians could be both miserable and wicked;infinitely more so,than all his father's heathens. 

 Arrived at last in old Sag Harbor;and seeing what the sailors did there;and then going on to Nantucket,and seeing how they spent their wages in that place also,poor Queequeg gave it up for lost. 

 Thought he,it's a wicked world in all meridians;I 'll die a pagan. 

 And thus an old idolator at heart,he yet lived among these Christians,wore their clothes,and tried to talk their gibberish.Hence the queer ways about him,though now some time from home. 

 By hints,I asked him whether he did not propose going back,and having a coronation;since he might now consider his father 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 sail about,and sow his wild oats in all four oceans.They had made a harpooneer of him,and that barbed 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 sea again,in his old vocation. 

 Upon this,I told him that whaling was my own design,and informed him of my intention to sail out of Nantucket,as being the most promising port for an adventurous whaleman to embark from. 

 He at once resolved to accompany me to that island,ship aboard the same vessel,get into the same watch,the same boat,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 Queequeg,he was an experienced harpooneer,and as such, 

 could not fail to be of great usefulness to one,who,like me,was wholly ignorant of the mysteries of whaling,though well acquainted with the sea,as known to merchant seamen. 

 His story being ended with his pipe's last dying puff,Queequeg embraced me,pressed his forehead against mine,and blowing out the light,we rolled over from each other,this way and that,and very soon were sleeping.