There is one man who has just come up from below that interests me so much that I can’t help watching him all the time he’s in sight.  The first time I saw him was the day we came on board.  The schooner had dropped down a mile or two, and Captain Peck, our worthy host at Marblehead, came out in a little boat to bring some of Clarendon’s clothes, which had been left by accident.  He is a clever fellow, for though Clarendon was not half civil to him, he was always polite in his way, and his frank, well-meaning civility so won upon brother, that when they parted he apologized for his rudeness, and told the Captain that he had shown himself the most of a gentleman of the two.

Beside brother’s extra trappings, Captain Peck brought a package of books, which Captain Cobb looked at with surprise, and asked, with an oath, who they were for.  O Bennie!  I should enjoy myself a great deal more if two or three of the sailors did not swear so dreadfully; but I hope when they have read those books they will stop using such wicked words; for what should they be but Bibles, sent on board by the Seamen’s Friend Society.

“Let us throw them overboard,” said “Brown Tom,” a coarse, red-featured man, who is more fond of grog than reading.

“Pshaw!  Tom, don’t talk of treating a lady’s present in that way,” exclaimed Captain Peck, who, after his fashion, has a great respect both for religion and womankind, and his own wife in particular.

“O, if that’s the case,” remarked a melancholy looking man, who had not before spoken, “let us stow them away somewhere; for women always mean well, and perhaps it would be better for us if we followed their advice.”

I thought he sighed as he said this, and I wondered what made him so unhappy.

“Well done for Moody Dick! he’s sailing under new colors.  Who would have thought of his hoisting a petticoat for a flag?” said Blunt Harry, an old, fat seaman, who is esteemed the wit of the crew.

“Not I,” replied Brown Tom; “but if the giver of these books has a pretty face of her own, they are worth keeping; if not, I don’t care for any of her lumber.”

“Well, that she has,” said Captain Peck, warmly; “you’ll have to go round the world again before you find a sweeter face than Miss Louisa Colman’s.  She begged me to bring them on board, and ask each sailor to accept a copy for his own use.”

“I’ll take one for myself, and thank ye, too, for mine was left by mistake at the tavern, there,” observed Old Jack, a quiet man, who had just come on deck.  So saying, he took up the largest of the Bibles with an air of reverence, quite in contrast with his usual bold, careless manner, adding, as he saw the name of the donors on the fly-leaf,—­“Bless the Seamen’s Friend Society and Miss Colman, too, if she’s like the rest of the dear ladies who take such an interest in us poor wanderers of the deep.”

As the name of Miss Colman was mentioned, the face of Moody Dick met my eye, and never did I see such powerful emotion as his toil-worn features betrayed.  His eyes, which are of that pale blue peculiar to mariners, were filled with tears, and, unable to control his feelings, he turned suddenly round towards the water; but his distress was evident from the agonized writhing of every limb and muscle.