Bigelow Van Slyck, who was a host at Puddleford in philology, attempted to give the most correct pronunciation of the word. It was "Ich, something," he said—"probably the whole word was taken from Ich—and that was an animal that scratched himself—and yet he didn't believe this animal had any hair—and it was only hairy animals that did scratch themselves—and the reason why he thought the animal hadn't any hair, was, that he must be a salt-water animal—for the bill said he was mentioned in Holy Writ—and also, that he couldn't live away from salt-water. He thought he knew sun-thin' 'bout Holy Writ—he thought he did—and sunthin' 'bout animals, too—and if he was to give his opinion, he should say the Ichneumon was the great Le-vi-a-thern, that went into the mighty deep!" (Here Bigelow raised upon his toes, and spread out his arms, as if to show the crowd how big the great Le-vi-a-thern was.)
Bigelow's oration produced a very solemn effect on the Puddlefordians. The idea that the great Leviathan, of Holy Writ, was really coming into their midst, was a most astounding thought to every man, woman, and child present.
Mrs. Longbow, who was a member of Bigelow's church, as has been seen, wanted to know "in what part of Holy Writ that 'are Ich-what-do-ye-call-it was found?"
Bigelow said it was somewhere—he couldn't 'zactly tell—it was either in the Old or New Testament, he was very—"sartin."
Mrs. Longbow said "she'd never see'd it."
Bigelow said "he'd never seen him nuther."
Mrs. Longbow explained—"she'd never seen the animal in the Holy Writ."
Bigelow thought, "if she'd look, she'd find it."
Mrs. Longbow said "she'd look now."
Bigelow said "he hadn't time now, but he'd look it up by next Sunday, and preach on't."