60 
MOBY DICK; OR 
favourite fishy food before him, and the chowder being surpassingly 
excellent, we despatched it with great expedition: when leaning back 
a moment and bethinking me of Mrs. Hussey’s clam and cod announce- 
ment, I thought I would try a little experiment. Stepping to the 
kitchen door, I uttered the word “cod” with great emphasis, and re- 
sumed my seat. In a few moments the savoury steam came forth again, 
but with a different flavour, and in good time a fine cod-chowder was 
placed before us. 
We resumed business ; and while plying our spoons in the bowl, thinks 
I to myself, I wonder now if this has any effect on the head ? What’s 
that stultifying s'aying about chowder-headed people ? “But look, Quee- 
queg, ain’t that a live eel in your bowl ? Where’s your harpoon ?” 
Fishiest of all fishy places was the Twy Pots, which well deserved its 
name ; for the pots there were always boiling chowders. Chowder for 
breakfast, and chowder for dinner, and chowder for supper, till you 
began to look for fishbones coming through your clothes. The area be- 
fore the house was paved with clam-shells. Mrs. Hussey wore a pol- 
ished necklace of codfish vertebrae; and Hosea Hussey had his account 
books bound in superior old shark-skin. There was a fishy flavour to 
the milk, too, which I could not at all account for, till one morning 
happening to taka a stroll along the beach among some fishermen’s 
boats, I saw Hosea’s brindled cow feeding on fish remnants, and march- 
ing along the sand with each foot in a cod’s decapitated head, looking 
very slipshod, I assure ye. 
Supper concluded, we received a lamp, and directions from Mrs. Hus- 
sey concerning the nearest way to bed ; but, as Queequeg was about to 
precede me up the stairs, the lady reached forth her arms, and demanded 
his harpoon ; she allowed no harpoon in her chambers. “Why not ?” 
said I ; “every true whaleman sleeps with his harpoon — but why not !” 
“Because it’s dangerous,” says she. “Ever since young Stiggs coming 
from that unfort’nt v’y’ge of his, when he was gone four years and a half, 
with only three barrels of ile , was found dead in my first floor back, with 
his harpoon in his side ; ever since then I allow no boarders to take sich 
dangerous weapons in their rooms a-night. So, Mr. Queequeg” (for she 
learned his name), “I will just take this here iron, and keep it for you 
till morning. But the chowder ; clam or cod to-morrow for breakfast, 
men ?” 
