14 
MOBY DICK; OR 
should tumble in upon me at midnight — how could I tell from what 
vile hole he had been coming? 
“Landlord ! I’ve changed my mind about that harpooneer. — I 
shan’t sleep with him. I’ll try the bench here.” 
“Just as you please; I’m sorry I can’t spare ye a tablecloth for a 
mattress, and it’s a plaguy rough board here” — feeling of the knots 
and notches. “But wait a bit, Skrimshander ; I’ve got a carpenter’s 
plane there in the bar — wait, I say, and I’ll make ye snug enough.” 
So saying he procured the plane; and with his old silk handkerchief 
first dusting the bench, vigorously set to planing away at my bed, the 
while grinning like an ape. The shavings flew right and left; till at 
last the plane-iron came hump against an indestructible knot. The 
landlord was near spraining his wrist, and I told him for heaven’s sake 
to quit — the bed was soft enough to suit me, and I did not know how all 
the planing in the world could make eider down of a pine plank. So 
gathering up the shavings with another grin, and throwing them into the 
great stove in the middle of the room, he went about his business, and 
left me in a brown study. 
I now took the measure of the bench, and found that it was a foot too 
short; but that could be mended with a chair. But it was a foot too 
narrow, and the other bench in the room was about four inches higher 
than the planed one — so there was no yoking them. I then placed the 
first bench lengthwise along the only clear space against the wall, leav- 
ing a little interval between, for my back to settle down in. But I soon 
found that there came such a draught of cold air over me from under 
the sill of the window, that this plan would never do at all, especially as 
another current from the rickety door met the one from the window, and 
both together formed a series of small whirlwinds in the immediate 
vicinity of the spot where I had thought to spend the night. 
“The devil fetch that harpooneer,” thought I, “but stop ! couldn’t I 
steal a march on him — bolt his door inside, and jump into his bed, not 
to be awakened by the most violent knockings?” It seemed no bad 
idea; but upon second thoughts I dismissed it. Bor who could tell but 
what the next morning, so soon as I popped out of the room, the har- 
pooneer might be standing in the entry, all ready to knock me down ! 
Still, looking round me again, and seeing no possible chance of spend- 
ing a sufferable night unless in some other person’s bed, I began to 
