"He will have it so." "All right, sorr, I'm agreeayble, as the man aid whin he wor agoin' to be hung," said Tim Rooney grinning, never taking anything serious for very long; "faix I'll go up mesilf if I can't get none av the hands to volunteer.

I couldn't order 'em yet, sorr, for it's more'n a man's loife is worth to get on a yard with this wind." "Very good, Rooney, do your best," replied Mr Mackay.

"Only don't run into any danger.

We can't afford to loose you, bo'sun." "Troth I'll take care av that same, sorr," returned Tim with a laugh.
"I wants another jollification ashore afore I'd be after losin' the noomber av me mess." I had come down from off the poop with Mr Mackay, and now, standing by his side, watched with anxiety Tim's movements.
He had no lack of volunteers, however, for the ticklish work of laying out on the yard, Joe Fergusson's previous example having inspired whatever pluck was previously wanting; and, almost as soon as he got forward we saw several of the hands mounting the fore rigging on the starboard side--this being the least dangerous, as there was no chance of their being blown into the sea against the wind.
But Tim Rooney would not suffer them to go aloft alone, his stalwart figure being the first to be seen leading the way up the shrouds, with Joe Fergusson close behind, not satisfied apparently with his previous attempt; and both, I noticed in the moonlight, which just then streamed out full for a few minutes, had their jack-knives between their teeth, ready for any emergency, as well as to cut away the double lashings of the foresail, "sea-gaskets" having been laced over the regular ones so as to bind the sail tighter to the yard.
As they went up, the crew were flattened like pancakes against the ratlines; and Mr Mackay and I held our breath when they got on the foot-rope from the shrouds, holding on to the yard and jack-stay, with the wind swaying them to and fro in the most perilous manner.

Tim Rooney especially seemed in the most dangerous position, as he made for the lee earing, whence he might be swept off in an instant into the foaming waves that spurted up from the chains as if clutching at him, while Joe Fergusson worked his way out to the end of the weather yard- arm, fighting the fierce gusts at every sliding step he took.
Then, when all were at their posts, Tim gave some sort of signal to the four others whom he allowed to go up with him, and at the same instant the gaskets were severed, parties of men below slacking off the clewlines and pulling on the sheets by degrees.