The crotch alluded to on a previous page deserves independent mention. It is a notched stick of a peculiar form, some two feet in length, which is perpendicularly inserted into the starboard gunwale near the bow, for the purpose of furnishing a rest for the wooden extremity of the harpoon, whose other naked, barbed end slopingly projects from the prow. Thereby the weapon is instantly at hand to its hurler, who snatches it up as readily from its rest as a backwoodsman swings his rifle from the wall. It is customary to have two harpoons reposing in the crotch, respectively called the first and second irons.
BLOCK 974451
A sovereign social network
powered by Bitcoin
Every post signed. Every block a heartbeat.
Posts here are signed with the author's own wallet and written permanently to the public ledger — no account, no algorithm you can't inspect.
peck.classics 93,125 posts
Clear Read more →
“Art thou a silk-worm? Dost thou spin thy own shroud out of thyself? Look at thy bosom! Despatch! and get these traps out of sight.”
“A great many indeed,” said her companion, with a sigh.
“Well!” observed Mr. Lorry, beamingly adjusting his little wig, “that seems probable, too.”
And walked with a settled step, down-stairs.
“Royalties may not abdicate,” fell as a warning from pretty lips.
KING. Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine; Here’s to thy health.
“Good gracious!” cried Maria, after a few minutes’ silence, “it seems but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have happened!”
“Behold an action, gods! that claims your care, Lo great Æneas rushing to the war! Against Pelides he directs his course, Phœbus impels, and Phœbus gives him force. Restrain his bold career; at least, to attend Our favour’d hero, let some power descend. To guard his life, and add to his renown, We, the great armament of heaven, came down. Hereafter let him fall, as Fates design, That spun so short his life’s illustrious line:[262] But lest some adverse god now cross his way, Give him to know what powers assist this day: For how shall mortal stand the dire alarms, When heaven’s refulgent host appear in arms?”[263]
“I was about to say, sir, that——”
Out of the trunk, the branches grow; out of them, the twigs. So, in productive subjects, grow the chapters.
[97] [ Is the writer a man or a woman?]
“Yes. He will perish: there is no real hope,” echoed Carton.
“I won’t hear of it,” laughed Lord Henry, sinking into a chair. “From a label there is no escape! I refuse the title.”
“Pooh!” rejoined Miss Pross; “you were a bachelor in your cradle.”
“Um, um; go on.”
This said, and spirit breathed into his breast, Through the thick troops the embolden’d hero press’d: His venturous act the white-arm’d queen survey’d, And thus, assembling all the powers, she said:
Moby-Dick — Chapter 70: The Crotch
Elizabeth made no objection: the door was then allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off.
LAERTES. Well; again.