Friday, December 31, 2010
The Lastest Blog of the Yeer
Some days ago--never mind how long precisely--having no purse, and nothing particular to interest him on shore, he thought he would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way he has of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever he find hisself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in his soul;… it requires a strong moral principle to prevent him from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, we all account it high time fer him to get to sea as soon as he can.…
There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with him.