Louisa May Alcott

“ I pity you vary much, and like to hear you talk," said Freddy, kindly.
"Unfortunately we are very easily killed, in spite of our size; and have various afflictions besides death. We grow blind; our jaws are deformed sometimes; our tails, with which we swim, get hurt; and we have dyspepsia."
Freddy shouted at that; for he knew what dyspepsia was, because at the sea-side there were many sickly people who were always groaning about that disease.
"It's no laughing matter, I assure you," said the whale's bone. "We suffer a great deal, and get thin and weak and miserable. ”

“ The killer, the sword-fish, and the thrasher trouble us at home. The killer fastens to us, and won't be shaken off till he has worried us to death; the swordfish stabs us with his sword; and the thrasher whips us to death with his own slender, but strong and heavy, body. Then, men harpoon us, shoot or entrap us; and make us into oil and candles and seats, and stiffening for gowns and umbrellas," said the bone, in a tone of scorn.
Freddy laughed at the idea, and asked, "How about candles? ”

“ When we want to feed, we rush through the water, which is full of the little things we eat, and catch them in our sieve, spirting the water through two holes in our heads. Then we collect the food with our tongue, and swallow it; for, though we are so big, out throats are small. We roam about in the ocean, leaping and floating, feeding and spouting, flying from our enemies or fighting bravely to defend our young ones."
"Have you got any enemies? I shouldn't think you could have, you are so large," said Freddy. ”

“ I only know that, when a sperm whale is killed, they make oil out of the fat part as they do of ours; but the Sperms have a sort of cistern in their heads, full of stuff like cream, and rose-colored. They cut a hole in the skull, and dip it out; and sometimes get sixteen or twenty barrels. This is made into what you call spermaceti candles. We don't have any such nonsense about us ”

“ The other creatures are boarders or visitors: these are the real workers, and, when they sit in their cells and put out their feelers, they make all manner of lovely colors under the water,—crimson, green, orange, and violet. But, if they are taken up or touched, the coral people go in doors, and the beautiful hues disappear. They say there are many coral reefs and islands built by these industrious people, in the South Seas ”