Моби Дик

The Spouter-Inn

           sabbeeme,Isabbee—youthismansleepeyou—yousabbee?"

           "Mesabbeeplenty"—gruntedQueequeg,puffingawayathispipeandsittingupinbed.

           "Yougetteein,"headded,motioningtomewithhistomahawk,andthrowingtheclothestooneside.Hereallydidthisinnotonlyacivilbutareallykindandcharitableway.Istoodlookingathimamoment.Forallhistattooingshewasonthewholeaclean,comelylookingcannibal.What’sallthisfussIhavebeenmakingabout,thoughtItomyself—theman’sahumanbeingjustasIam:hehasjustasmuchreasontofearme,asIhavetobeafraidofhim.BettersleepwithasobercannibalthanadrunkenChristian.

           "Landlord,"saidI,"tellhimtostashhistomahawkthere,orpipe,orwhateveryoucallit;tellhimtostopsmoking,inshort,andIwillturninwithhim.ButIdon’tfancyhavingamansmokinginbedwithme.It’sdangerous.Besides,Iain’tinsured."

           ThisbeingtoldtoQueequeg,heatoncecomplied,andagainpolitelymotionedmetogetintobed—rollingovertoonesideasmuchastosay—Iwon’ttouchalegofye."

           "Goodnight,landlord,"saidI,"youmaygo."

           Iturnedin,andneversleptbetterinmylife.

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