CXXII. Midnight Aloft.⁠—Thunder and Lightning

The main-top-sail yard.⁠—Tashtego passing new lashings around it.

“Um, um, um. Stop that thunder! Plenty too much thunder up here. What’s the use of thunder? Um, um, um. We don’t want thunder; we want rum; give us a glass of rum. Um, um, um!”