Moby Dick

fuzzygobo

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I’m enjoying this. @Old Thunder, when this tale is done, what would you do next? Wuthering Heights? The Crucible? A Separate Peace?

Or would you go to Disneyland?😃
 

Old Thunder

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CHAPTER XVI.
The Ship.

In bed we concocted our plans for the morrow.

I’m enjoying this. @Old Thunder, when this tale is done, what would you do next? Wuthering Heights? The Crucible? A Separate Peace?

Or would you go to Disneyland?😃
I'd probably drop my pen and float into the next life.
 

Old Thunder

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But to my surprise and no small concern, Queequeg now gave me to understand that he had been diligently consulting Yojo--the name of his black little god--and Yojo had told him two or three times over, and strongly insisted upon it every way, that instead of our going together among the whaling-fleet in harbour, and in concert selecting our craft; instead of this, I say, Yojo earnestly enjoined that the selection of the ship should rest wholly with me, inasmuch as Yojo purposed befriending us; and, in order to do so, had already, pitched upon a vessel, which, if left to myself, I, Ishmael, should infallibly light upon, for all the world as though it had turned out by chance; and in that vessel I must immediately ship myself, for the present irrespective of Queequeg.
 

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I have forgotten to mention that, in many things, Queequeg placed great confidence in the excellence of Yojo's judgment and surprising forecast of things; and cherished Yojo with considerable esteem, as a rather good sort of god, who perhaps meant well enough upon the whole, but in all cases did not succeed in his benevolent designs.
 

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Now, this plan of Queequeg's, or rather Yojo's, touching the selection of our craft; I did not like this plan at all.
 

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I had not a little relied upon Queequeg's sagacity to point out the whaler best fitted to carry us and our fortunes securely.
 

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But as all my remonstrances produced no effect upon Queequeg, I was obliged to acquiesce; and accordingly prepared to set about this business with a determined rushing sort of energy and vigour, that should quickly settle that trifling little affair.
 

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Next morning early, leaving Queequeg shut up with Yojo in our little bedroom--for it seemed that it was some sort of Lent or Ramadan,* or day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer with Queequeg and Yojo that day; how it was I never could find out, for, though I applied myself to it several times, I never could master his liturgies and XXXIX Articles**--leaving Queequeg, then, fasting on his tomahawk pipe, and Yojo warming himself at his sacrificial fire of shavings, I sallied out among the shipping.

*Ninth month of the Islamic calendar, requiring daytime fasts.
**The creed of the Anglican Church.
 

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After much prolonged sauntering and many random inquiries, I learnt that there were three ships up for three-years' voyages--The Devil-dam, the ***-bit, and the Pequod.
 

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Devil-Dam, I do not know the origin of; ***-bit is obvious; Pequod, you will no doubt remember, was the name of a celebrated tribe of Massachusetts Indians, now extinct as the ancient Medes.
 
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