- end_line
- 1715
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:18.534Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1697
- text
- Jarl’s favorite perch was the triangular little platform in the bow;
which being the driest and most elevated part of the boat, was best
adapted to his purpose. Here for hours and hours together the honest
old tailor would sit darning and sewing away, heedless of the wide
ocean around; while forever, his slouched Guayaquil hat kept bobbing up
and down against the horizon before us.
It was a most solemn avocation with him. Silently he nodded like the
still statue in the opera of Don Juan. Indeed he never spoke, unless to
give pithy utterance to the wisdom of keeping one’s wardrobe in repair.
But herein my Viking at times waxed oracular. And many’s the hour we
glided along, myself deeply pondering in the stem, hand upon helm;
while crosslegged at the other end of the boat Jarl laid down patch
upon patch, and at long intervals precept upon precept; here several
saws, and there innumerable stitches.
- title
- Chunk 3