Moby Dick; Or, The Whale (1851)
by Herman Melville
What under the heavens he did it for, I cannot tell, but his next movement was to crush himself - boots in hand, and hat on - under the bed; when, from sundry violent gaspings and strainings, I inferred he was hard at work booting himself; though by no law of propriety that I ever heard of, is any man required to be private when putting on his boots. But Queequeg, do you see, was a creature in the transition stage - neither caterpillar nor butterfly. He was just enough civilized to show off his outlandishness in the strangest possible manners.🏁
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What under the heavens he did it for, I cannot tell, but his next movement was to crush himself - boots in hand, and hat on - under the bed; when, from sundry violent gaspings and strainings, I inferred he was hard at work booting himself; though by no law of propriety that I ever heard of, is any man required to be private when putting on his boots. But Queequeg, do you see, was a creature in the transition stage - neither caterpillar nor butterfly. He was just enough civilized to show off his outlandishness in the strangest possible manners.🏁