hammock, and cover yourself with your own blanket, and sleep in your own skin.

The more I pondered over this harpooneer, the more I abominated the thought of sleeping with him. It was fair to presume that being a harpooneer, his linen or woollen, as the case might be, would not be of the tidiest, certainly none of the finest. I began to twitch all over. Besides, it was getting late, and my decent harpooneer ought to be home and going bedwards. Suppose now, he should tumble in upon me at midnight — how could I tell from what vile hole he had been coming?

“Landlord! I’ve changed my mind about that harpooneer.

— I shan’t sleep with him. I’ll try the bench here.”

“Just as you please; I’m