Then, in spite of warnings, I was fascinated by the desire to look down; and when I looked I felt more uncomfortable than ever; the ship's deck was like a dancing tea-tray far below; my legs and arms began to feel very light, and my head heavy, and I did not hear what Francis was saying to me, so he pinched my arm and then repeated it.
"Come along--and if the other chaps put any larks on you, keep your eyes open, and never lose a grip by one hand somewhere.

So long as you hold on to some of the ship's ropes you're bound to find your way back somehow." "I'll try," I said.
Then through the confusion in my head I heard a screaming whistle, and a voice from beneath, and Francis pricked his ears, and then suddenly swung himself back on to the ladder of ropes by which we had climbed.
"Lucky for you, young shaver," said he.

"Come along!" I desired no more definite explanation.

Francis was going down, and I willingly did the same, but when my foot touched the deck I staggered and fell.

It was Mr.Johnson who picked me up by the neck of my slops, saying, as he did so, "Boatswain! The captain will give an extra lot of grog to drink Mr.O'Moore's good health." This announcement was received with a cheer, and I heard the boatswain calling to "stow your cleaning-tackle, my lads, and for'ards to the break of the fo'c'sle.