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He was pointing out something to the little boy, in the distance, so that I stared also and caught a puff of vapor above the water. "It's a whale, isn't it?" I asked. "Yis, ma'am," replied Sammy. "It's one o' they big sulphur-bottoms. Them little whaling steamers is mighty glad to get hold o' that kind. They grows awful big. I've seed some shockin' big fellows." "I'd like to see one caught.
Though Wilbur was not satisfied with Hodgson's explanation, it was the only one he ever heard. When he had spoken of the matter, Hodgson had nodded his head. "Sulphur-bottoms," he said. "Sulphur-bottoms?" "Yes; they're a kind of right-whale; they get barnacles and a kind of marine lice on their backs, and come up and scratch them selves against a ship's keel, just like a hog under a fence."
"They ar'n't sperm whales," said Larry, "their spouts ar'n't bushy enough; they ar'n't Sulphur-bottoms, or they wouldn't stay up so long; they ar'n't Hump-backs, for they ar'n't got any humps; they ar'n't Fin-backs, for you won't catch a Finback so near a ship; they ar'n't Greenland whales, for we ar'n't off the coast of Greenland; and they ar'n't right whales, for it wouldn't be right to say so.
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