{"id":"01KF7FPMGFBP7MQB741N6T53VE","cid":"bafkreifwt2grhxvlebfbrdzkwug7sx54n4ja6y6dedg4amd2z2n7juuwni","type":"chapter","properties":{"end_line":1628,"extracted_at":"2026-01-18T02:42:15.045Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"The Sermon","source_file":"01KESYVB66H8YEVTN88DWE9W8D","start_line":1594,"text":"but soon an inkling of the truth occurred to me. I remembered a story\r\nof a white man—a whaleman too—who, falling among the cannibals, had\r\nbeen tattooed by them. I concluded that this harpooneer, in the course\r\nof his distant voyages, must have met with a similar adventure. And\r\nwhat is it, thought I, after all! It’s only his outside; a man can be\r\nhonest in any sort of skin. But then, what to make of his unearthly\r\ncomplexion, that part of it, I mean, lying round about, and completely\r\nindependent of the squares of tattooing. To be sure, it might be\r\nnothing but a good coat of tropical tanning; but I never heard of a hot\r\nsun’s tanning a white man into a purplish yellow one. However, I had\r\nnever been in the South Seas; and perhaps the sun there produced these\r\nextraordinary effects upon the skin. Now, while all these ideas were\r\npassing through me like lightning, this harpooneer never noticed me at\r\nall. But, after some difficulty having opened his bag, he commenced\r\nfumbling in it, and presently pulled out a sort of tomahawk, and a\r\nseal-skin wallet with the hair on. Placing these on the old chest in\r\nthe middle of the room, he then took the New Zealand head—a ghastly\r\nthing enough—and crammed it down into the bag. He now took off his\r\nhat—a new beaver hat—when I came nigh singing out with fresh surprise.\r\nThere was no hair on his head—none to speak of at least—nothing but a\r\nsmall scalp-knot twisted up on his forehead. His bald purplish head now\r\nlooked for all the world like a mildewed skull. Had not the stranger\r\nstood between me and the door, I would have bolted out of it quicker\r\nthan ever I bolted a dinner.\r\n\r\nEven as it was, I thought something of slipping out of the window, but\r\nit was the second floor back. I am no coward, but what to make of this\r\nhead-peddling purple rascal altogether passed my comprehension.\r\nIgnorance is the parent of fear, and being completely nonplussed and\r\nconfounded about the stranger, I confess I was now as much afraid of\r\nhim as if it was the devil himself who had thus broken into my room at\r\nthe dead of night. In fact, I was so afraid of him that I was not game\r\nenough just then to address him, and demand a satisfactory answer\r\nconcerning what seemed inexplicable in him.\r\n\r","title":"The Sermon"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KF7FPKDT5SHSH1ZQV6ABHQCA","peer_label":"Moby Dick; Or, The Whale","peer_type":"book","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KF7FPKDT5SHSH1ZQV6ABHQCA","peer_label":"Moby Dick; Or, The Whale","peer_type":"book","predicate":"partOf"},{"peer":"01KESYJX0Z6XE0HWTS5N3SDG0B","peer_label":"The Classics","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"}],"ver":1,"created_at":"2026-01-18T02:42:15.941Z","ts":"2026-01-18T02:42:15.941Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KF7FCDA7SCSJ6A30TDPDSJQV"}}