he
fell clear into the sea, or was dashed to pieces in the fore-chains.

"I couldn't bear to see a fellow-creature, and good seaman in the
bargain, in that state, and although the captain dare not _order_ any
one to help him, yet there were one or two midshipmen hastening up the
fore-rigging, with the intent, I have no doubt, of trying to save him
(for midshipmen don't value their lives at a quid of tobacco), so I
seizes the studding sail halyards, and runs up the topmast rigging,
intending to go down by the lift, and pass a bowling knot round him
before he fell, when who should I meet at the cross-trees but Tom
Herbert, who snatched the rope out of my hand, bawling to me through the
gale, `This is my business, Tom.'

"Down he goes by the lift, the remainder of the canvas flapped over him,
and I seed no more until I heard a cry from all below, and away went
Herbert and Wiggins, both together, flying to leeward just as the ship
was taking her recovery to windward. Fortunately they both fell clear
of the ship about two feet, not more, and as their fall was expected,
they had prepared below. A master's mate, of the name of Simmonds, and
the captain of the forecastle, both went overboard in bowling knots,
with another in their hands, and in a minute or two they were all four
on board again; but Herbert and were both senseless, and a long while
coming to again. Well, now, what do you think was the upshot of it?
Why, they were the best friends in the world ever afterwards, and would
have died for one another; and if one had a glass of grog from the
officers for any little job, instead of touching his forelock and
drinking it off to the officer's health, he always took it out of the
gun-room, that he might give half of it to the other. So, d'ye see my
boys, as I said before I began my yarn, that danger makes friends.

"'Tis said we vent'rous die hard,
When we leave the shore,
Our friends may mourn, lest we return
To bless their sight no more.
But this is all a notion
Bold Jack can't understand;
Some die upon the ocean.
And some die upon dry land."

"And if we had tumbled, father, we should have just died betwixt and
between, not water enough to float us. It would have been _woolez wous
parlez wous_, plump in the mud, as you say sometimes."

"Why, yes, Tom. I've a notion that I should have been planted too deep
ever to have struck," replied the old man, looking at his wooden stumps.

"Why, yes,