Next morning Stubb accosted Flask.
“Such a queer dream, King-Post, I never had. —
You know the old man’s ivory leg, well I dreamed he kicked me with it; —
and when I tried to kick back, upon my soul, my little man, I kicked my leg right off! —
And then, presto! Ahab seemed a pyramid, and I like a blazing fool, kept kicking at it. —
But what was still more curious, Flask–you know how curious all dreams are–through all this rage that I was in, I somehow seemed to be thinking to myself, that after all, it was not much of an insult, that kick from Ahab. ‘Why,’ thinks I, ‘what’s the row? —
It’s not a real leg, only a false one.’ And there’s a mighty difference between a living thump and a dead thump. —
That’s what makes a blow from the hand, Flask, fifty times more savage to bear than a blow from a cane. —
The living member– that makes the living insult, my little man. —
And thinks I to myself all the while, mind, while I was stubbing my silly toes against that cursed pyramid–so confoundedly contradictory was it all, all the while, I say, I was thinking to myself, ‘what’s his leg now, but a cane-. —
a whale-bone cane. Yes,’ thinks I, ‘it was only a playful cudgelling–in fact, only a whaleboning that he gave me– not a base kick. —
Besides,’ thinks I, ‘look at it once; why, the end of it–the foot part–what a small sort of end it is; —
whereas, if a broad footed farmer kicked me, there’s a devilish broad insult. —
But this insult is whittled down to a point only.’ —
But now comes the greatest joke of the dream, Flask. While I was battering away at the pyramid, a sort of badger-haired old merman, with a hump on his back, takes me by the shoulders, and slews me round. —
‘What are you ‘bout?’ says he. Slid! man, but I was frightened. Such a phiz! —
But, somehow, next moment I was over the fright. ‘What am I about?’ says I at last. —
‘And what business is that of yours, I should like to know, Mr. Humpback? Do you want a kick?’ —
By the lord, Flask, I had no sooner said that, than he turned round his stern to me, bent over, and dragging up a lot of seaweed he had for a clout–what do you think, I saw? —
–why thunder alive, man, his stern was stuck full of marlinspikes, with the points out. —
Says I on second thought, ‘I guess I won’t kick you, old fellow.’ —
‘Wise Stubb,’ said he, ‘wise Stubb;’ and kept muttering it all the time, a sort of eating of his own gums like a chimney hag. —
Seeing he wasn’t going to stop saying over his ‘wise Stubb, wise Stubb,’ I thought I might as well fall to kicking the pyramid again. —
But I had only just lifted my foot for it, when he roared out, ‘Stop that kicking!’ —
‘Halloa,’ says I, ‘what’s the matter now, old fellow?’ ‘Look ye here,’ says he; —
‘let’s argue the insult. Captain Ahab kicked ye, didn’t he?’ —
‘Yes, he did,’ says I–‘right here it was.’ —
‘Very good,’ says he–‘he used his ivory leg, didn’t he?’ —
‘Yes, he did,’ says I. ‘Well then,’ says he, ‘wise Stubb, what have you to complain of? —
Didn’t he kick with right good will? it wasn’t a common pitch pine leg he kicked with, was it? —
No, you were kicked by a great man, and with a beautiful ivory leg, Stubb. It’s an honor; —
I consider it an honor. Listen, wise Stubb. In old England the greatest lords think it great glory to be slapped by a queen, and made garter-knights of; —
but, be your boast, Stubb, that ye were kicked by old Ahab, and made a wise man of. —
Remember what I say; be kicked by him; account his kicks honors; and on no account kick back; —
for you can’t help yourself, wise Stubb. Don’t you see that pyramid?’ —
With that, he all of a sudden seemed somehow, in some queer fashion, to swim off into the air. —
I snored; rolled over; and there I was in my hammock! —
Now, what do you think of that dream, Flask?”
“I don’t know; it seems a sort of foolish to me, tho.‘”
“May be; may be. But it’s made a wise man of me, Flask. D’ye see Ahab standing there, sideways looking over the stern? —
Well, the best thing you can do, Flask, is to let the old man alone; —
never speak to him, whatever he says. Halloa! —
What’s that he shouts? Hark!”
“Mast-head, there! Look sharp, all of ye! There are whales hereabouts!
If ye see a white one, split your lungs for him!
“What do you think of that now, Flask? ain’t there a small drop of something queer about that, eh? —
A white whale–did ye mark that, man? Look ye–there’s something special in the wind. —
Stand by for it, Flask. Ahab has that that’s bloody on his mind. —
But, mum; he comes this way.”