In Chapter 6, “The Street,” Melville introduces us to the microcosm of New Bedford through the eyes of Ishmael. Right off the bat, he draws a parallel between Queequeg’s perceived savageness and the strange sight he encounters on the street (pg. 16). He turns his focus, however, to a specific category of men; to this group, he refers in the following way: “…scores of green Vermonters and New Hampshire men, all athirst for gain and glory in the fishery. They are mostly young, of stalwart frames; fellows who have felled forests and now seek to drop the axe and snatch the wale-lance.” (16). The visual element of the description is key to representing the naiveness, frivolity, and recklessness of these men. They are green, inexperienced, and scrawny, but also money hungry and air headed. In their hometowns they kill trees, now they are looking to kill whales. He later identifies them as “bumpkin dandies,” a new breed of spoiled brat that surpasses even city dandies in their insufferableness. Then he turns our attention toward New Bedford itself, a seemingly unremarkable piece of land that has nevertheless prospered immensely. To answer where this wealth came from he says, “Go and gaze upon the iron emblematical harpoons round yonder lofty mansion, and your question will be answered. Yes; all these brave houses and flowery gardens came from the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans. One and all, they were harpooned and dragged up hither from the bottom of the sea…You must go to New Bedford to see a brilliant wedding; for, they say, they have reservoirs of oil in every house, and every night recklessly burn their lengths in spermaceti candles” (17). The description of the New Bedford community is starkly similar to that of the bumpkin dandies. Maybe dandies are out of their depth in this new town, but they are just as greedy and irresponsible as the locals. The local wealth comes from the exploitation of the ocean, just as the country people’s wealth comes from the exploitation of the earth. Although Melville doesn’t directly compare the two, it’s not coincidental that he writes of one right after the other. In reality, these bumpkin dandies come to continue the cycle of exploitation already set before them, so really, how out of place are they? I would say they are right at home, and though Ishmael doesn’t seem to notice, Melville is fully aware of it. He once again employs imagery as his strongest resource, because, by giving the reader a visual representation of wealth (the dandies and their clothes, New Bedford weddings), and contrasting it with a mental image of exploitation (“emblematical harpoons,” the axe that cuts down forests), he highlights the imminent link between them.