And once Daggoo, seized with a sudden humor,
assisted Dough-Boy's memory by snatching him up bodily,
and thrusting his head into a great empty wooden trencher,
while Tashtego, knife in hand, began laying out the circle
preliminary to scalping him. He was naturally a very nervous,
shuddering sort of little fellow, this bread-faced steward;
the progeny of a bankrupt baker and a hospital nurse.
And what with the standing spectacle of the black terrific Ahab,
and the periodical tumultuous visitations of these three savages,
Dough-Boy's whole life was one continual lip-quiver. Commonly,
after seeing the harpooneers furnished with all things they demanded,
he would escape from their clutches into his little pantry adjoining,
and fearfully peep out at them through the blinds of its door,
till all was over.
It was a sight to see Queequeg seated over against Tashtego,
opposing his filed teeth to the Indian's; crosswise to them,
Daggoo seated on the floor, for a bench would have brought
his hearse-plumed head to the low carlines; at every motion
of his colossal limbs, making the low cabin framework to shake,
as when an African elephant goes passenger in a ship.
But for all this, the great negro was wonderfully abstemious,
not to say dainty.
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