I thought so now that I knew the roughest of the other side of the question, just as much as when I sat comfortably on the frilled cushion of the round-backed arm-chair and read the Penny Numbers to the bee-master.

Barefoot, bareheaded, cold, wet, seasick, hard worked and half-rested, would I even now exchange the life I had chosen for the life I had left ?--for the desk next to the Jew-clerk, for the partnership, to be my uncle's heir, to be mayor, to be member?
I asked myself the question as I stood by the steersman, and with every drive of the wheel I answered it--"No, Moses! No! No!" It is not wise to think hard when you are working hard at mechanical work, in a blustering wind and a night watch.

Fatigue and open air make you sleepy, and thinking makes you forget where you are, and if your work is mechanical you do it unconsciously, and may fall asleep over it.
I dozed more than once, and woke with the horrible idea that I had lost my hold, and was not doing my work.

That woke me effectually, but even then I had to look at my hands to see that they were there.

I pushed, but I could not feel, my fingers were so numb with cold.
The second time I dozed and started again, I heard the captain's voice close beside us.