the sixth line, undivided, shows its subject as in command of the firmament of heaven.
night and morning, when going to rest or getting up, he said, 'o god, let me sleep like a stone and rise up like a loaf.'
look--there, a quarter of a mile away.
oh! What is that turning over in the water, like a great black wheel? And a great tooth on it, and--oh! it is gone!
never mind. it will soon show itself again.
but what was it?
the whale: one of them, at least; for the men say there are two different ones about the bay. that black wheel was part of his back, as he turned down; and the tooth on it was his back-fin.
but the noise, like a giant's cough?
rather like the blast of a locomotive just starting. that was his breath.
i saw now, whirling high in air, now skimming lightly across the surface of the sands, a soft, black, felt hat, somewhat conical in shape, such as i had remarked already on the heads of the italians.
i believe, but i am not sure, that i uttered a cry. the wind was driving the hat shoreward, and i ran round the border of the floe to be ready against its arrival. the gust fell, dropping the hat for a while upon the quicksand, and then, once more freshening, landed it a few yards from where i stood. i seized it with the interest you may imagine. it had seen some service; indeed, it was rustier than either of those i had seen that day upon the street.