- end_line
- 1464
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-18T02:42:17.940Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1454
- text
- “I tell you what it is, landlord,” said I quite calmly, “you’d better
stop spinning that yarn to me—I’m not green.”
“May be not,” taking out a stick and whittling a toothpick, “but I
rayther guess you’ll be done _brown_ if that ere harpooneer hears you a
slanderin’ his head.”
“I’ll break it for him,” said I, now flying into a passion again at
this unaccountable farrago of the landlord’s.
“It’s broke a’ready,” said he.
- title
- Chunk 4