{"id":"01KG8AP59AW64A7KQECVEKXAS9","cid":"bafkreidrp44ipkp5tautrdpxbyr45yqirdesg565kmbphgot23h767qu6y","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":2717,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:49:30.764Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 33","source_file":"01KG89J198KE6FY8WPVJQQRCZ6","start_line":2656,"text":"towards me, and said it was mine. I was going to remonstrate; but he\r\nsilenced me by pouring them into my trowsers’ pockets. I let them stay.\r\nHe then went about his evening prayers, took out his idol, and removed\r\nthe paper fireboard. By certain signs and symptoms, I thought he seemed\r\nanxious for me to join him; but well knowing what was to follow, I\r\ndeliberated a moment whether, in case he invited me, I would comply or\r\notherwise.\r\n\r\nI was a good Christian; born and bred in the bosom of the infallible\r\nPresbyterian Church. How then could I unite with this wild idolator in\r\nworshipping his piece of wood? But what is worship? thought I. Do you\r\nsuppose now, Ishmael, that the magnanimous God of heaven and\r\nearth—pagans and all included—can possibly be jealous of an\r\ninsignificant bit of black wood? Impossible! But what is worship?—to do\r\nthe will of God—_that_ is worship. And what is the will of God?—to do\r\nto my fellow man what I would have my fellow man to do to me—_that_ is\r\nthe will of God. Now, Queequeg is my fellow man. And what do I wish\r\nthat this Queequeg would do to me? Why, unite with me in my particular\r\nPresbyterian form of worship. Consequently, I must then unite with him\r\nin his; ergo, I must turn idolator. So I kindled the shavings; helped\r\nprop up the innocent little idol; offered him burnt biscuit with\r\nQueequeg; salamed before him twice or thrice; kissed his nose; and that\r\ndone, we undressed and went to bed, at peace with our own consciences\r\nand all the world. But we did not go to sleep without some little chat.\r\n\r\nHow it is I know not; but there is no place like a bed for confidential\r\ndisclosures between friends. Man and wife, they say, there open the\r\nvery bottom of their souls to each other; and some old couples often\r\nlie and chat over old times till nearly morning. Thus, then, in our\r\nhearts’ honeymoon, lay I and Queequeg—a cosy, loving pair.\r\n\r\n\r\nCHAPTER 11. Nightgown.\r\n\r\nWe had lain thus in bed, chatting and napping at short intervals, and\r\nQueequeg now and then affectionately throwing his brown tattooed legs\r\nover mine, and then drawing them back; so entirely sociable and free\r\nand easy were we; when, at last, by reason of our confabulations, what\r\nlittle nappishness remained in us altogether departed, and we felt like\r\ngetting up again, though day-break was yet some way down the future.\r\n\r\nYes, we became very wakeful; so much so that our recumbent position\r\nbegan to grow wearisome, and by little and little we found ourselves\r\nsitting up; the clothes well tucked around us, leaning against the\r\nhead-board with our four knees drawn up close together, and our two\r\nnoses bending over them, as if our kneepans were warming-pans. We felt\r\nvery nice and snug, the more so since it was so chilly out of doors;\r\nindeed out of bed-clothes too, seeing that there was no fire in the\r\nroom. The more so, I say, because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some\r\nsmall part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world\r\nthat is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If\r\nyou flatter yourself that you are all over comfortable, and have been\r\nso a long time, then you cannot be said to be comfortable any more. But\r\nif, like Queequeg and me in the bed, the tip of your nose or the crown\r\nof your head be slightly chilled, why then, indeed, in the general\r\nconsciousness you feel most delightfully and unmistakably warm. For\r\nthis reason a sleeping apartment should never be furnished with a fire,\r\nwhich is one of the luxurious discomforts of the rich. For the height\r\nof this sort of deliciousness is to have nothing but the blanket\r\nbetween you and your snugness and the cold of the outer air. Then there\r\nyou lie like the one warm spark in the heart of an arctic crystal.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 33"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AK7FP6P1V67V3ATJHHZ83","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J198KE6FY8WPVJQQRCZ6","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AP59A6ZWKDB050VRP96NV","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AP5X99B3ZQ64EYMPRGQN4","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:49:33.482Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:49:40.648Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}