There's something so romantic about winter and I don't know whether that's just because

I'm a bit for homebody and I love a 5th.

But I think it's just the holiday period, it's just for me, it's the most romantic period.

And I think anyone who's listened to my records will know that I'm quite a big fan of romance.

Joy in every sip with red carp snout back at Starbucks.

Chapter 62 The Dart

A word concerning an incident in the last chapter.

According to the invariable usage of the fishery, the whale boat pushes off from the ship,

with the headsman or whale killer as temporary steersman, and the harpooner or whale fastener

pulling the foremost ore, the one known as the harpooner ore.

Now, it needs a strong, nervous arm to strike the first iron into the fish.

For often, in what is called the long dart, the heavy implement has to be flung to the

distance of 20 or 30 feet.

But however prolonged and exhausting the chase, the harpooner is expected to pull his

ore, meanwhile, to the utter most.

Indeed, he's expected to set an example of superhuman activity to the rest, not only

by incredible rowing, but by repeated loud and intrepid exclamations.

And what it is to keep shouting at the top of one's compass while all the other muscles

are strained and half-started.

What that is, none know but those who have tried it.

For one, I cannot ball very heartily and work very recklessly at one in the same time.

In this straining-balling state, then, with his back to the fish, all at once the exhausted

...