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authorNorbert Preining <norbert@preining.info>2019-09-02 13:46:59 +0900
committerNorbert Preining <norbert@preining.info>2019-09-02 13:46:59 +0900
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tree60335e10d2f4354b0674ec22d7b53f0f8abee672 /usergrps/uktug/baskervi/8_3/ishmael.tex
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+\documentclass{book}
+
+\begin{document}
+\chapter{Example formatted file}\label{ishmael}
+%\addtocontents{toc}{ishmael}
+I stuffed a shirt or two into my old carpet-bag, tucked it
+under my arm, and started for Cape Horn and the Pacific. Quitting the good
+city of old Manhatto, I duly arrived in New Bedford.
+It was on a Saturday night in December. Much was I disappointed
+upon learning that the little packet for Nantucket had already sailed, and that no
+way of reaching that place would offer, till the following Monday.
+
+As most young candidates for the pains and
+penalties of whaling stop at this same New Bedford, thence to embark
+on their voyage, it may as well be related that I, for one, had no idea
+of so doing. For my mind was made up to sail in no other than a
+Nantucket craft, because there was a fine boisterous something about
+everything connected with that famous old island,
+which amazingly pleased me. Besides though New Bedford has of
+late been gradually monopolizing the business of whaling, and though in this matter
+poor old Nantucket is now much behind her, yet Nantucket was her great original
+--- the Tyre of this Carthage; --- the place where the first dead
+American whale was stranded. Where else but from Nantucket did
+those aboriginal whalemen, the Red-Men, first sally out
+in canoes to give chase to the Leviathan? And where but from
+Nantucket, too, did that first adventurous little sloop
+put forth, partly laden with imported cobblestones
+--- so goes the story --- to throw at the whales, in order to
+discover when they were nigh enough to risk a harpoon from the
+bowsprit?
+
+Now having a night, a day, and still another night
+following before me in New Bedford, ere I could
+embark for my destined port, it became a matter of
+concernment where I was to eat and sleep meanwhile. It was a very
+dubious-looking, nay, a very dark and dismal night,
+bitingly cold and cheerless. I knew no-one in the place.
+With anxious grapnels I had sounded my pocket, and only brought up a few
+pieces of silver, --- ``So, wherever you
+go, Ishmael,'' said I to myself, as I stood in the middle
+of a dreary street shouldering my bag,
+and comparing the gloom towards the north with the darkness
+towards the south --- ``wherever in your wisdom
+you may conclude to lodge for the night, my dear
+Ishmael, be sure to inquire the price, and don't be too
+particular.''
+\end{document}
+
+Moving on, I at last came to a dim sort of light not far from
+the docks, and heard a forlorn creaking in the air;
+and looking up, saw a swinging sign over the door
+with a white painting upon it, faintly representing a tall straight jet
+of misty spray, and these words underneath --- `The Spouter-Inn:
+--- Peter Coffin.'
+
+``Coffin? --- Spouter? --- Rather ominous in that particular
+connexion,'' thought I. ``But it is a common name in Nantucket,
+they say, and I suppose this Peter is an emigrant
+from there.'' As the light looked so dim,
+and the place, for the time, looked
+quiet enough, and the dilapidated little wooden
+house itself looked as if it might have been
+carted here from the ruins of some burnt
+district, and as the swinging sign had a poverty-stricken
+sort of creak to it, I thought that here was the
+very spot for cheap lodgings, and the best pea coffee.
+
+It was a queer sort of place --- a gable-ended old house,
+one side palsied as it were, and leaning over sadly. It stood
+on a sharp bleak corner, where that tempestuous wind Euroclydon kept
+up a worse howling than it ever did about poor
+Paul's tossed craft. Euroclydon, nevertheless, is a mighty
+pleasant zephyr to any one in-doors, with his feet on the hob
+quietly toasting for bed. ``In judging of that tempestuous
+wind called Euroclydon,'' says an old writer --- of whose works
+I possess the only copy extant --- ``it maketh a
+marvellous difference, whether you lookest
+out at it from a glass window where the frost
+is all on the outside, or whether thou observest it from
+that sashless window, where the frost is on both sides, and
+of which the wight Death is the only glazier.'' True enough, thought I,
+as this passage occurred to my mind --- old black-letter,
+thou reasonest well. Yes, these eyes are windows,
+and this body of mine is the house. What a pity they
+don't stop up the chinks and crannies though, and thrust in a little
+lint here and there. But it's too late
+to make any improvements now. The universe is finished;
+the copestone is on, and the chips were carted off
+a million years ago. Poor Lazarus there,
+chattering his teeth against the curbstone for his
+pillow, and shaking off his tatters with his shiverings, he might
+plug up both ears with rags, and put a corn-cob into his
+mouth, and yet that would not keep out the
+tempestuous Euroclydon. What a fine frosty night;
+how Orion glitters; what northern lights! Let them
+talk of their oriental summer climes of everlasting
+conservatories; give me the privilege of making my
+own summer with my own coals.
+
+But what thinks Lazarus? Can he warm his blue hands
+by holding them up to the grand northern lights? Would not
+Lazarus rather be in Sumatra than here? Would
+he not far rather lay him down lengthwise along the line
+of the equator; yea, ye gods!
+go down to the fiery pit itself, in order
+to keep out this frost?
+
+But no more of this blubbering now, we are going a-whaling,
+and there is plenty of that yet to come. Let us
+scrape this ice from our frosted feet, and see what sort of place this
+`Spouter' may be.
+