'What's the Matter With You, Young Man?'

I was unmethodically rushing upstairs again empty handed, when missus hussy interposed the mustard pot and vinegar cruet. What's matter with you, young man? Get the axe, for god's sake. Run for the doctor, some one, while i pry it open. Running to a little closet under the landing of the stairs, she glanced in, and told me that queequeg's harpoon was missing. He's killed himself. She cried. There goes another counterpane. God pity his poor mother. It will be the ruin of my house. Has the poor lad a sister? Where's that girl there? Betty? Go to snarles