whenever i find myself growing grim about the mouth, whenever it is a damp grisly november in my soul, whenever i find myself involuntary pausing before coffin warehouses and bringing up the rear of every funeral i meet, and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me that it requires a strong moral principle from me to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street and methodically knocking people's hats off -- then i account it high time to get to sea as soon as i can.