CHAPTER 127 The Deck

CHAPTER 127 The Deck

Thecoffinlaidupontwoline-tubs,betweenthevice-benchandtheopenhatchway;theCarpentercaulkingitsseams;thestringoftwistedoakumslowlyunwindingfromalargerollofitplacedinthebosomofhisfrock.—Ahabcomesslowlyfromthecabin-gangway,andhearsPipfollowinghim.

"Back,lad;Iwillbewithyeagainpresently.Hegoes!Notthishandcomplieswithmyhumormoregeniallythanthatboy.—Middleaisleofachurch!What'shere?"

"Life-buoy,sir.Mr.Starbuck'sorders.Oh,look,sir!Bewarethehatchway!"

"Thankye,man.Thycoffinlieshandytothevault.

"Sir?Thehatchway?oh!Soitdoes,sir,soitdoes."

"Artnotthoutheleg-maker?Look,didnotthisstumpcomefromthyshop?"

"Ibelieveitdid,sir;doestheferrulestand,sir?"

"Wellenough.Butartthounotalsotheundertaker?""Aye,sir;IpatchedupthisthinghereasacoffinforQueequeg;butthey'vesetmenowtoturningitintosomethingelse."

"Thentellme;artthounotanarrant,all-grasping,intermeddling,monopolising,heathenisholdscamp,tobeonedaymakinglegs,andthenextdaycoffinstoclapthemin,andyetagainlife-buoysoutofthosesamecoffins?Thouartasunprincipledasthegods,andasmuchofajack-of-all-trades."

"ButIdonotmeananything,sir.IdoasIdo."

"Thegodsagain.Harkye,dostthounoteversingworkingaboutacoffin?TheTitans,theysay,hummedsnatcheswhenchippingoutthecratersforvolcanoes;andthegrave-diggerintheplaysings,spadeinhand.Dostthounever?"

"Sing,sir?DoIsing?Oh,I'mindifferentenough,sir,forthat;butthereasonwhythegrave-diggermademusicmusthavebeenbecausetherewasnoneinhisspade,sir.Butthecaulkingmalletisfullofit.Harktoit."

"Aye,andthat'sbecausethelidthere'sasoundingboard;andwhatinallthingsmakesthesoundingboardisthis—there'snaughtbeneath.Andyet,acoffinwithabodyinitringsprettymuchthesame,Carpenter.Hastthoueverhelpedcarryabier,andheardthecoffinknockagainstthechurchyardgate,goingin?

"Faith,sir,I've——"

"Faith?What'sthat?"

"Why,faith,sir,it'sonlyasortofexclamation-like—that'sall,sir."

"Um,um;goon."

"Iwasabouttosay,sir,that——"

"Artthouasilk-worm?Dostthouspinthyownshroudoutofthyself?Lookatthybosom!Despatch!andgetthesetrapsoutofsight."

"Hegoesaft.Thatwassudden,now;butsquallscomesuddeninhotlatitudes.I'veheardthattheIsleofAlbemarle,oneoftheGallipagos,iscutbytheEquatorrightinthemiddle.SeemstomesomesortofEquatorcutsyonoldman,too,rightinhismiddle.He'salwaysundertheLine—fieryhot,Itellye!He'slookingthisway—come,oakum;quick.Herewegoagain.Thiswoodenmalletisthecork,andI'mtheprofessorofmusicalglasses—tap,tap!"

(Ahabtohimself.)

"There'sasight!There'sasound!Thegreyheadedwoodpeckertappingthehollowtree!Blindanddumbmightwellbeenviednow.See!thatthingrestsontwoline-tubs,fulloftow-lines.Amostmaliciouswag,thatfellow.Rat-tat!Soman'ssecondstick!Oh!howimmaterialareallmaterials!Whatthingsrealarethere,butimponderablethoughts?Herenow'stheverydreadedsymbolofgrimdeath,byamerehap,madetheexpressivesignofthehelpandhopeofmostendangeredlife.Alife-buoyofacoffin!Doesitgofurther?Canitbethatinsomespiritualsensethecoffinis,afterall,butanimmortality-preserver!I'llthinkofthat.Butno.SofargoneamIinthedarksideofearth,thatitsotherside,thetheoreticbrightone,seemsbutuncertaintwilighttome.Willyeneverhavedone,Carpenter,withthataccursedsound?Igobelow;letmenotseethatthingherewhenIreturnagain.Now,then,Pip,we'lltalkthisover;Idosuckmostwondrousphilosophiesfromthee!Someunknownconduitsfromtheunknownworldsmustemptyintothee!"

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CHAPTER 127 The Deck

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