Thinks I, Queequeg, under the circumstances, this is a very
civilized overture; but, the truth is, these savages have an
innate sense of delicacy, say what you will; it is marvellous
how essentially polite they are. I pay this particular
compliment to Queequeg, because he treated me with so much
civility and consideration, while I was guilty of great rudeness;
staring at him from the bed, and watching all his toilette motions;
for the time my curiosity getting the better of my breeding.
Nevertheless, a man like Queequeg you don't see every day,
he and his ways were well worth unusual regarding.
He commenced dressing at top by donning his beaver hat,
a very tall one, by the by, and then--still minus his trowsers--
he hunted up his boots. 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 state--
neither caterpillar nor butterfly.
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