What a relief it was to choking Stubb, when a rat made a sudden
racket in the hold below. And poor little Flask, he was
the youngest son, and little boy of this weary family party.
His were the shin-bones of the saline beef; his would have been
the drumsticks. For Flask to have presumed to help himself,
this must have seemed to him tantamount to larceny in the first degree.
Had he helped himself at that table, doubtless, never more would
he have been able to hold his head up in this honest world;
nevertheless, strange to say, Ahab never forbade him. And had Flask
helped himself, the chances were Ahab had never so much as noticed it.
Least of all, did Flask presume to help himself to butter.
Whether he thought the owners of the ship denied it to him,
on account of its clotting his clear, sunny complexion; or whether
he deemed that, on so long a voyage in such marketless waters,
butter was at a premium, and therefore was not for him, a subaltern;
however it was, Flask, alas! was a butterless man!
Another thing. Flask was the last person down at the dinner,
and Flask is the first man up. Consider! For hereby Flask's
dinner was badly jammed in point of time. Starbuck and Stubb
both had the start of him; and yet they also have the privilege
of lounging in the rear.
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