英语听书《白鲸记》 第14期

The devil fetch that harpooneer, thought I, but stop,couldn't I steal a march on him—bolt his door inside,and jump into his bed, not to be wakened by themost violent knockings? It seemed no bad idea; butupon second thoughts I dismissed it. For who couldtell but what the next morning, so soon as I poppedout of the room, the harpooneer might be standingin the entry, all ready to knock me down!

Still, looking round me again, and seeing no possiblechance of spending a sufferable night unless in someother person's bed, I began to think that after all Imight be cherishing unwarrantable prejudices against this unknown harpooneer. Thinks I, I'llwait awhile; he must be dropping in before long. I'll have a good look at him then, and perhapswe may become jolly good bedfellows after all—there's no telling.

But though the other boarders kept coming in by ones, twos, and threes, and going to bed, yetno sign of my harpooneer.

"Landlord!" said I, "what sort of a chap is he—does he always keep such late hours?" It was nowhard upon twelve o'clock.

The landlord chuckled again with his lean chuckle, and seemed to be mightily tickled atsomething beyond my comprehension. "No," he answered, "generally he's an early bird—airleyto bed and airley to rise—yes, he's the bird what catches the worm. But to-night he went out apeddling, you see, and I don't see what on airth keeps him so late, unless, may be, he can't sellhis head."

"Can't sell his head?—What sort of a bamboozingly story is this you are telling me?" getting intoa towering rage. "Do you pretend to say, landlord, that this harpooneer is actually engagedthis blessed Saturday night, or rather Sunday morning, in peddling his head around this town?"

"That's precisely it," said the landlord, "and I told him he couldn't sell it here, the market'soverstocked."

"With what?" shouted I.

"With heads to be sure; ain't there too many heads in the world?"

"I tell you what it is, landlord," said I quite calmly, "you'd better stop spinning that yarn to me—I'm not green."

"May be not," taking out a stick and whittling a toothpick, "but I rayther guess you'll be doneBROWN if that ere harpooneer hears you a slanderin' his head."