I was so provoked with Mr. Wallet about the loss of that bucket of water that I pretended not to hear him when he spoke to me as I ran to the forecastle to find Peter. He was most probably only going to give me a reprimand—which I deserved—for leaving the bucket where I did, and when I seemed not to hear him, he did not follow me up. As I ran forward I looked over the expanse of water which glittered in the sun under the brisk southerly breeze, but I saw no patches of weed. As it turned out I did not get another bucket of weed with its strange freight of life, for we had run clear of it. Never in my life have I been able to get another head of sargasso-weed. That was another grudge I bore Mr. Wallet, and still bear him. His feelings toward me were none too friendly. I plunged below to find Peter Bottom and pour out my grievances. I found him busy, but he stopped his work—I did not even glance at it—and covered it with his hand, and listened until I had emptied my heart. When at last I had come to a hesitating stop he looked up with a twinkle in his eyes. “Now you ’ve got it all out, Timmie,” he said, “you feel better, I ’ll warrant.” I did feel better, and not so angry as I had been. But {119} that means nothing. I have always been like that, with a hot heart that cools rapidly, leaving hardly enough resentment for self-respect. I knew it even then for a fault. I hold that anything that is worth such hot anger as I felt demands the keeping of a cold resentment long enough to do some good. A man of any stability would do that, or he would not get so angry. Captain Nelson was a man of stability, and I was already beginning to think Mr. Brown even more so. Mr. Baker was an ignorant man, except in one line, and he was hot-tempered and hard; Mr. Tilton was even more ignorant, although even-tempered enough, quick in decision in matters which he knew about, and vigorous in action; but both Mr. Baker and Mr. Tilton were men of stability. Mr. Snow was regarded as a little busybody; but nowhere was there a good word for Mr. Wallet. His ignorance was stupendous, his talent for failure was great, no dependence could be placed on him in any kind of a pinch, and he had not the courage of a sheep. It was more or less of a mystery how he got his second mate’s berth, and a still greater mystery how he held it. “That second mate ’s not worth getting mad at,” Peter said, “and he ’ll get his deserts sooner or later. They ’most always do. Now look. I told you I had something to show you, and here it is.” With that he lifted his hand from the small thing it covered, which was of ivory, one of the larger teeth of our only whale. This thing of Peter’s was already plainly a model of the hull of the Clearchus, although there had not been time to do more than roughly shape it. Even with the largest tooth used for it, the model was on a very small scale, only about five and a half inches long.