- end_line
- 2484
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 2453
- text
- gradually become silent, and leave the field to the tyrant, who would
then fly out worse than ever, and dare them to do their worst, and jeer
at them for white-livered poltroons, who did not have a mouthful of
heart in them. At such times, there were no bounds to his contempt; and
indeed, all the time he seemed to have even more contempt than hatred,
for every body and every thing.
As for me, I was but a boy; and at any time aboard ship, a boy is
expected to keep quiet, do what he is bid, never presume to interfere,
and seldom to talk, unless spoken to. For merchant sailors have a great
idea of their dignity, and superiority to _greenhorns_ and _landsmen,_
who know nothing about a ship; and they seem to think, that an _able
seaman_ is a great man; at least a much greater man than a little boy.
And the able seamen in the Highlander had such grand notions about
their seamanship, that I almost thought that able seamen received
diplomas, like those given at colleges; and were made a sort _A.M.S,_
or _Masters of Arts._
But though I kept thus quiet, and had very little to say, and well knew
that my best plan was to get along peaceably with every body, and
indeed endure a good deal before showing fight, yet I could not avoid
Jackson’s evil eye, nor escape his bitter enmity. And his being my foe,
set many of the rest against me; or at least they were afraid to speak
out for me before Jackson; so that at last I found myself a sort of
Ishmael in the ship, without a single friend or companion; and I began
to feel a hatred growing up in me against the whole crew—so much so,
that I prayed against it, that it might not master my heart completely,
and so make a fiend of me, something like Jackson.
- title
- Chunk 6