𝙳𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐... 
                             ᴮᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᶦᵉⁿᵗ•












᥆һ һі. 
ᥡ᥆ᥙ rᥱᥲᥣᥣᥡ ᥕᥲᥒ𝗍 𝗍᥆ gᥱ𝗍 𝗍᥆ kᥒ᥆ᥕ mᥱ? 
𝗍һᥲ𝗍's ᥕᥱіrძ. 
𝖿іᥒძ ᥆ᥙ𝗍 ᥡ᥆ᥙrsᥱᥣ𝖿 ᥡ᥆ᥙ ᥴrᥱᥱ⍴. 

GO READ MOBY DICK. 





CHAPTER I


LOOMING.


Call me Ishmael. Some years ago--nerer mind how long
precisely-haring litle or no money in my purse, and nothing
particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about
a little and see the watery part of the workd. It is a way I have
of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. When-
exer I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenerer it
is a damp, drizely Norember in my soul; whenever I find myself
involuntarily pausing before cofin warchouses, and bringing up
he rear of very funeral I meet; and especially whenever my
hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it roquires a strong
moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into
the street, and methodiclly knocking people's hnts of-then, I
account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can, This is my
substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish
Cato hrow himself pon his sword; I quietly take to the
ship. Thiere is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it,
almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very
nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted
round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs-commerce sur-
rounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you
waterward. Its estreme down-town is the battery, where that
noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which
a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the
crowds of water-gazers there.


Circumambulate tho city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon.
Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by