"That fellow little thinks how useful he is in keeping up my spirits.

The most inveterate croaker and grumbler in the world--and yet, according to his own account, the only cheerful man in the whole ship's company.

John Want! John Want! Rouse up, there!" A head rose slowly out of the bedclothes, covered with a red night-cap.
A melancholy nose rested itself on the edge of the hammock.

A voice, worthy of the nose, expressed its opinion of the Arctic climate, in these words: "Lord! Lord! here's all my breath on my blanket.

Icicles, if you please, sir, all round my mouth and all over my blanket.