Fore-Top.

(Stubb solus, and mending a brace.)

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Hem! Clear my throat! — I’ve been thinking over it ever since, and that ha, ha’s the final consequence.

Why so? Because a laugh’s the wisest, easiest answer to all that’s queer; and come what will, one comfort’s always left — that unfailing comfort is, it’s all predestinated. I heard not all his talk with Starbuck; but to my poor eye Starbuck then looked something as I the other evening felt. Be sure the old Mogul has fixed him, too. I twigged it, knew it; had had the gift, might readily have prophesied it — for when I clapped my eye upon his skull I saw it.

Well, Stubb, wise Stubb — that’s my title — well, Stubb, what of it, Stubb? Here’s