Goblin Character Analysis

The idea that Goblin was more scared than he gave him great confidence and so did Rab’s belief in him and his powers to learn. […] But one day he overheard Uncle Lorne say to Rab, ‘I don’t know how Johnny has done it, but he is riding real good now.’

‘He’s doing all right.’

‘Not scared a bit of Goblin. God knows I am.’

‘Johnny Tremain is a bold fellow. I knew he could learn—if he didn’t get killed first. It was sink or swim for him—and happens he’s swimming.’

This praise went to Johnny’s head, but patterning his manners on Rab’s he tried not to show it.

For the first time he learned to think before he spoke. He counted ten that day he delivered a paper at Sam Adams’s big shabby house on Purchase Street and the black girl flung dishwater out of the kitchen door without looking, and soaked him. If he had not counted ten, he would have told her what he thought of her, black folk in general, and thrown in a few cutting remarks about her master—the most powerful man in Boston. But counting ten had its rewards. […] ever after when Johnny came to Sam Adams’s house, he was invited in and the great leader of the gathering rebellion would talk with him […] [Adams] also began to employ him and Goblin to do express riding for the Boston Committee of Correspondence. All this because Johnny had counted ten. Rab was right. There was no point in going off ‘half-cocked.’

Johnny knew he longed to own [Goblin] himself. He could, any moment, by merely saying ‘commandeer.’ And Johnny knew he never would say it.

From that day he and Johnny spent hours together jumping or exercising horses. Johnny almost worshiped him for his skill and almost loved him, because, ever and anon, he looked so much like Rab; but still it was only where horses were concerned they were equals. Indoors he was rigidly a British officer and a ‘gentleman’ and Johnny an inferior. This shifting about puzzled Johnny. It did not seem to puzzle the British officer at all.

The idea that Goblin was more scared than he gave him great confidence and so did Rab’s belief in him and his powers to learn. […] But one day he overheard Uncle Lorne say to Rab, ‘I don’t know how Johnny has done it, but he is riding real good now.’

‘He’s doing all right.’

‘Not scared a bit of Goblin. God knows I am.’

‘Johnny Tremain is a bold fellow. I knew he could learn—if he didn’t get killed first. It was sink or swim for him—and happens he’s swimming.’

This praise went to Johnny’s head, but patterning his manners on Rab’s he tried not to show it.

For the first time he learned to think before he spoke. He counted ten that day he delivered a paper at Sam Adams’s big shabby house on Purchase Street and the black girl flung dishwater out of the kitchen door without looking, and soaked him. If he had not counted ten, he would have told her what he thought of her, black folk in general, and thrown in a few cutting remarks about her master—the most powerful man in Boston. But counting ten had its rewards. […] ever after when Johnny came to Sam Adams’s house, he was invited in and the great leader of the gathering rebellion would talk with him […] [Adams] also began to employ him and Goblin to do express riding for the Boston Committee of Correspondence. All this because Johnny had counted ten. Rab was right. There was no point in going off ‘half-cocked.’

Johnny knew he longed to own [Goblin] himself. He could, any moment, by merely saying ‘commandeer.’ And Johnny knew he never would say it.

From that day he and Johnny spent hours together jumping or exercising horses. Johnny almost worshiped him for his skill and almost loved him, because, ever and anon, he looked so much like Rab; but still it was only where horses were concerned they were equals. Indoors he was rigidly a British officer and a ‘gentleman’ and Johnny an inferior. This shifting about puzzled Johnny. It did not seem to puzzle the British officer at all.