should ever do so, it would depend upon who the harpooneer might be,
and that if he (the landlord) really had no other place for me,
and the harpooneer was not decidedly objectionable, why rather
than wander further about a strange town on so bitter a night,
I would put up with the half of any decent man's blanket.

"I thought so. All right; take a seat. Supper?--you want supper?
Supper'll be ready directly."

I sat down on an old wooden settle, carved all over like a
bench on the Battery. At one end a ruminating tar was still
further adorning it with his jack-knife, stooping over
and diligently working away at the space between his legs.
He was trying his hand at a ship under full sail, but he didn't
make much headway, I thought.

At last some four or five of us were summoned to our
meal in an adjoining room. It was cold as Iceland--
no fire at all--the landlord said he couldn't afford it.
Nothing but two dismal tallow candles, each in a winding sheet.
We were fain to button up our monkey jackets, and hold to our
lips cups of scalding tea with our half frozen fingers.
But the fare was of the most substantial kind--not only meat
and potatoes, but dumplings; good heavens! dumplings for supper!
One young fellow in a green box coat, addressed himself
to these dumplings in a most direful manner.

"My boy," said the landlord, "you'll have the nightmare
to a dead sartainty."