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Symes, says he, 'it's a bloawin' right smart peart, and I don't see fitten for to lower. "I went for'ard. The lookaout he hailed again. 'On deck, sir, says he, 'thar she blaows, an' spouts, an' breaches. "I went aft. 'Cap'n Symes, says I, 'thar she bloaws, an' spouts, an' breaches. Shall I lower? "Cap'n Symes he took a look at the clouds that was a-scuddin' acrosst. 'Mr.
Symes, says he, 'it's a-bloawin' right smart peart, an' I don't see fitten for to lower. "I went for'ard. The lookaout he hailed again. 'On deck, sir, says he, 'thar she blaows, an' spouts, an' breaches, an' it's a right smart sperm, too. "I went aft. 'Cap'n Symes, says I, 'thar she bloaws, an' spouts, an' breaches, an' its a right smart sperm-whale, too. Shall I lower?
Symes, says he, 'it's a-bloawin' right smart peart, an' I don't see fitten for to lower. "I went for'ard. The lookaout hailed again. 'On deck, sir, says he, 'thar she blaows an' spouts. "I went aft. 'Cap'n Symes, says I, 'thar she blaows an' spouts. Shall I lower? "Cap'n Symes he casts an eye aloft. 'Mr.
Some version of this tale is known to every whaler and I preserve Ben's story, as he told it, imitating the Down East twang as well as I may: "Forty-two days aout, an' not a drop o' ile in the tanks. I went for'ard. The lookaout he hailed. 'On deck, sir, says he, 'thar she blaows. "I went aft. 'Cap'n Symes, says I, 'thar she blaows; shall I lower? "Cap'n Symes he gin a look to wind'ard. 'Mr.
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