{"id":"01KG8AKRN164AFW9EATNCH9CDA","cid":"bafkreif5lm3zeqvbtmrgsy5nt6cgmieaagu3fqft6n6ethxm6hdzsgfjpe","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":12044,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:14.846Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","start_line":11954,"text":"\r\nThere we sat in that tarry old den, the only inhabitants of the\r\ndeserted old ship, but the mate and the rats.\r\n\r\nAt last, Harry went to his chest, and drawing out a few shillings,\r\nproposed that we should go ashore, and return with a supper, to eat in\r\nthe forecastle. Little else that was eatable being for sale in the\r\npaltry shops along the wharves, we bought several pies, some doughnuts,\r\nand a bottle of ginger-pop, and thus supplied we made merry. For to us,\r\nwhose very mouths were become pickled and puckered, with the continual\r\nflavor of briny beef, those pies and doughnuts were most delicious. And\r\nas for the ginger-pop, why, that ginger-pop was divine! I have\r\nreverenced ginger-pop ever since.\r\n\r\nWe kept late hours that night; for, delightful certainty! placed beyond\r\nall doubt—like royal landsmen, we were masters of the watches of the\r\nnight, and no _starb-o-leens ahoy!_ would annoy us again.\r\n\r\n“All night in! think of _that,_ Harry, my friend!”\r\n\r\n“Ay, Wellingborough, it’s enough to keep me awake forever, to think I\r\nmay now sleep as long as I please.”\r\n\r\nWe turned out bright and early, and then prepared for the shore, first\r\nstripping to the waist, for a toilet.\r\n\r\n“I shall never get these confounded tar-stains out of my fingers,”\r\ncried Harry, rubbing them hard with a bit of oakum, steeped in strong\r\nsuds. “No! they will _not_ come out, and I’m ruined for life. Look at\r\nmy hand once, Wellingborough!”\r\n\r\nIt was indeed a sad sight. Every finger nail, like mine, was dyed of a\r\nrich, russet hue; looking something like bits of fine tortoise shell.\r\n\r\n“Never mind, Harry,” said I—“You know the ladies of the east steep the\r\ntips of their fingers in some golden dye.”\r\n\r\n“And by Plutus,” cried Harry—“I’d steep mine up to the armpits in gold;\r\nsince you talk about _that._ But never mind, I’ll swear I’m just from\r\nPersia, my boy.”\r\n\r\nWe now arrayed ourselves in our best, and sallied ashore; and, at once,\r\nI piloted Harry to the sign of a Turkey Cock in Fulton-street, kept by\r\none Sweeny, a place famous for cheap Souchong, and capital buckwheat\r\ncakes.\r\n\r\n“Well, gentlemen, what will you have?”—said a waiter, as we seated\r\nourselves at a table.\r\n\r\n“_Gentlemen!_” whispered Harry to me—“_gentlemen!_—hear him!—I say now,\r\nRedburn, they didn’t talk to us that way on board the old Highlander.\r\nBy heaven, I begin to feel my straps again:—Coffee and hot rolls,” he\r\nadded aloud, crossing his legs like a lord, “and fellow—come back—bring\r\nus a venison-steak.”\r\n\r\n“Haven’t got it, gentlemen.”\r\n\r\n“Ham and eggs,” suggested I, whose mouth was watering at the\r\nrecollection of that particular dish, which I had tasted at the sign of\r\nthe Turkey Cock before. So ham and eggs it was; and royal coffee, and\r\nimperial toast.\r\n\r\nBut the butter!\r\n\r\n“Harry, did you ever taste such butter as this before?”\r\n\r\n“Don’t say a word,”—said Harry, spreading his tenth slice of toast “I’m\r\ngoing to turn dairyman, and keep within the blessed savor of butter, so\r\nlong as I live.”\r\n\r\nWe made a breakfast, never to be forgotten; paid our bill with a\r\nflourish, and sallied into the street, like two goodly galleons of\r\ngold, bound from Acapulco to Old Spain.\r\n\r\n“Now,” said Harry, “lead on; and let’s see something of these United\r\nStates of yours. I’m ready to pace from Maine to Florida; ford the\r\nGreat Lakes; and jump the River Ohio, if it comes in the way. Here,\r\ntake my arm;—lead on.”\r\n\r\nSuch was the miraculous change, that had now come over him. It reminded\r\nme of his manner, when we had started for London, from the sign of the\r\nGolden Anchor, in Liverpool.\r\n\r\nHe was, indeed, in most wonderful spirits; at which I could not help\r\nmarveling; considering the cavity in his pockets; and that he was a\r\nstranger in the land.\r\n\r\nBy noon he had selected his boarding-house, a private establishment,\r\nwhere they did not charge much for their board, and where the\r\nlandlady’s butcher’s bill was not very large.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJTW2WYN7EY41V9J2FA4X","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKRMZK1X13E4TM7FKMD69","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.009Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:35.389Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}