years afterwards slain off the Cape of Blanco.The original iron entered nigh the tail, 

 and,like a restless needle sojourning in the body of a man,travelled full forty feet,and at last was found imbedded in the hump. 

 Crossing this dusky entry,and on through yon low arched way, 

 cut through what in old times must have been a great central chimney with fireplaces all roundyou enter the public room. 

 A still duskier place is this,with such low ponderous beams above, 

 and such old wrinkled planks beneath,that you would almost fancy you trod some old craft's cockpits, 

 especially of such a howling night,when this corner anchored old ark rocked so furiously. 

 On one side stood a long,low,shelf like table covered with cracked glass cases, 

 filled with dusty rarities gathered from this wide world's remotest nooks. 

 Projecting from the further angle of the room stands a dark looking denthe bara rude attempt at a right whale's head. 

 Be that how it may,there stands the vast arched bone of the whale's jaw, 

 so wide,a coach might almost drive beneath it.Within are shabby shelves, 

 ranged round with old decanters,bottles,flasks;and in those jaws of swift destruction, 

 like another cursed Jonah,bustles a little withered old man,who,for their money, 

 dearly sells the sailors deliriums and death. 

 Abominable are the tumblers into which he pours his poison.Though true cylinders withoutwithin, 

 the villanous green goggling glasses deceitfully tapered downwards to a cheating bottom. 

 Parallel meridians rudely pecked into the glass,surround these footpads' goblets. 

 Fill to THIS mark,and your charge is but a penny;to THIS a penny more; 

 and so on to the full glassthe Cape Horn measure,which you may gulp down for a shilling. 

 Upon entering the place I found a number of young seamen gathered about a table, 

 examining by a dim light divers specimens of SKRIMSHANDER.I sought the landlord, 

 and telling him I desired to be accommodated with a room,received for answer that his house was fullnot a bed unoccupied. 

 But avast,he added,tapping his forehead, 

 you haint no objections to sharing a harpooneer's blanket,have ye?I s'pose you are goin'a whalin, 

 so you 'd better get used to that sort of thing. 

 I told him that I never liked to sleep two in a bed;that if I should ever do so, 

 it would depend upon who the harpooneer might be,and that if he 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. undefined