Moby Dick

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"Mrs. Hussey," said I, "he's alive at all events; so leave us, if you please, and I will see to this strange affair myself."
 

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Closing the door upon the landlady, I endeavoured to prevail upon Queequeg to take a chair; but in vain.
 

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There he sat; and all he could do -- for all my polite arts and blandishments -- he would not move a peg, nor say a single word, nor even look at me, nor notice my presence in the slightest way.
 

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I wonder, thought I, if this can possibly be a part of his Ramadan; do they fast on their hams that way in his native island.
 

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It must be so; yes, it's part of his creed, I suppose; well, then, let him rest; he'll get up sooner or later, no doubt.
 

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It can't last forever, and his Ramadan only comes once a year; and I don't believe it's very punctual then.
 

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After sitting a long time listening to the long stories of some sailors who had just come from a plum-pudding voyage, as they called it (that is, a short whaling-voyage in a schooner or brig, confined to the north of the line, in the Atlantic Ocean only); after listening to these plum-puddingers till nearly eleven o'clock, I went upstairs to go to bed, feeling quite sure by this time Queequeg must certainly have brought his Ramadan to a termination.
 

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But no; there he was just where I had left him; he had not stirred an inch,
 

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I began to grow vexed with him; it seemed so downright senseless and insane to be sitting there all day and half the night on his hams in a cold room, holding a piece of wood on his head.
 
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