who at such times look downwards to our platters, they, on the contrary, copying the ducks, glance upwards to the great Giver of all feasts — Grace, I say, being said, the High Priest opens the banquet by the immemorial ceremony of the island; that is, dipping his consecrated and consecrating fingers into the bowl before the blessed beverage circulates.

Seeing himself placed next the Priest, and noting the ceremony, and thinking himself — being Captain of a ship — as having plain precedence over a mere island King, especially in the King’s own house — the Captain coolly proceeds to wash his hands in the punchbowl; — taking it I suppose for a huge finger-glass. “Now,” said Queequeg, “what you tink now? — Didn’t our people laugh?”