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I then glanced round the room; and besides the bedstead and centre table, could see no other furniture belonging to the place, but a rude shelf, and four walls, and a papered fireboard representing a man striking a whale.

Though none of the most elegant, it yet stood the scrutiny tolerably well.

Folding back the counterpane, I stooped over the bed.

So, are there any metal sub-genres that you try to stay away from / don't find that great / hate? Alternatively, which sub-genre(s) do you prefer overall?

I turned round from eyeing the bed, but he had disappeared.

"There," said the landlord, placing the candle on a crazy old sea chest that did double duty as a wash-stand and centre table; "there, make yourself comfortable now, and good-night to ye."

I considered the matter a moment, and then up-stairs we went, and I was ushered into a small room, cold as a clam, and furnished, sure enough with a prodigious bed, almost big enough indeed for any four harpooners to sleep abreast.

But I stood irresolute; when looking at a clock in the corner, he exclaimed "I vum it's Sunday -- you won't see that harpooner to-night; he's come to anchor somewhere -- come along then; do come; won't ye come?"

"But come, it's getting dreadful late, you had better be turning flukes -- it's a nice bed; Sal and me slept in that ere bed the night we were spliced. There's plenty room for two to kick about in that bed; it's an almighty big bed that. Why, afore we give it up, Sal used to put our Sam and...

"He pays reg'lar," was the rejoinder.

"Depend upon it, landlord, that harpooner is a dangerous man."

Thomas Gets Bumped; I had (and still have) the Best of Thomas VHS, the deluxe one with the Duke WR. This was my introduction to the series... memories... I don't have a favorite outright... that said, Daisy's classic series theme was one that really struck me first time I heard it; it's really...

This account cleared up the otherwise unaccountable mystery, and showed that the landlord, after all, had no idea of fooling me -- but at the same time what could I think of a harpooner who stayed out of a Saturday night clean in the holy Sabbath, engaged in such a cannibal business as selling...

"Wall," said the landlord, fetching a long breath, "that's a purty long sarmon for a chap that rips a little now and then. But be easy, be easy, this here harpooner I have been tellin' you of has just arrived from the south seas, where he brought up a lot of 'balmed New Zealand heads (great...

"Landlord," said I going up to him as cool as Mt. Hecla in a snow-storm, -- "landlord, stop whittling. You and I must understand one another, and that too without delay. I come to your house and want a bed; you tell me you can only give me half a one; that the other half belongs to a certain...

"Sartain, and that's the very reason he can't sell it, I guess."

"Broke," said I -- "broke, do you mean?"

"It's broke a'ready," said he.

"I'll break it for him," said I, now flying into a passion again at this unaccountable farrago of the landlord's.

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