WHICH ENDS THE BOOK DISAPPOINTED in going to court, we determined upon going to sea.

It would never do, longer to trespass on Po-Po's hospitality; and then, weary somewhat of life in Imeeo, like all sailors ashore, I at last pined for the billows.
Now, if her crew were to be credited, the Leviathan was not the craft to our mind.

But I had seen the captain, and liked him.

He was an uncommonly tall, robust, fine-looking man, in the prime of life.
There was a deep crimson spot in the middle of each sunburnt cheek, doubtless the effect of his sea-potations.

He was a Vineyarder, or native of the island of Martha's Vineyard (adjoining Nantucket), and--I would have sworn it--a sailor, and no tyrant.
Previous to this, we had rather avoided the Leviathan's men, when they came ashore; but now, we purposely threw ourselves in their way, in order to learn more of the vessel.
We became acquainted with the third mate, a Prussian, and an old merchant-seaman--a right jolly fellow, with a face like a ruby.