The Harpooner Can't Sell His Head

Landlord said i what sort of a chap is he? Does he always keep such late hours? It was now hard upon 12 o'clock. The landlord chuckled again with his lean chuckle, and seem be mightily tickled at something beyond my comprehension. And i don't see what on earth keeps him so late, unless maybe he can't sell his head. I demand of you to speak out and tell me who and what this harpooner is, and whether i shall be, in all respects, safe to spend the night with him.