t
could not find him. Some said that they believed he was in the fore-top,
standing sentry over the wind, that it might not change; others, that he
was in the galley, to prevent the midshipmen from soaking their biscuit
in the captain's dripping-pan. At last, I inquired of some of the women
who were standing between the guns on the main-deck, and one of them
answered that it was no use looking for him among them, as they all had
husbands, and Cheeks was a _widows man._[2]

As I could not find the marine, I thought I might as well go for my
cocked hat, and get my dirk afterwards. I did not much like going up the
rigging, because I was afraid of turning giddy, and if I fell overboard
I could not swim; but one of the midshipmen offered to accompany me,
stating that I need not be afraid, if I fell overboard, of sinking to
the bottom, as if I was giddy, my head, at all events, _would swim_; so
I determined to venture. I climbed up very near to the main-top, but not
without missing the little ropes very often, and grazing the skin of my
shins. Then I came to large ropes stretched out from the mast, so that
you must climb them with your head backwards. The midshipman told me
these were called the cat-harpings, because they were so difficult to
climb, that a cat would expostulate if ordered to go out by them. I was
afraid to venture, and then he proposed that I should go through
lubber's hole, which he said had been made for people like me. I agreed
to attempt it, as it appeared more easy, and at last arrived, quite out
of breath, and very happy to find myself in the main-top.

The captain of the main-top was there with two other sailors. The
midshipman introduced me very politely:--"Mr Jenkins--Mr Simple,
midshipman,--Mr Simple, Mr Jenkins, captain of the main-top. Mr Jenkins,
Mr Simple has come up with an order for a cocked hat." The captain of
the top replied that he was very sorry that he had not one in store, but
the last had been served out to the captain's monkey. This was very
provoking. The captain of the top then asked me if I was ready with my
_footing_.

I replied, "Not very, for I had lost it two or three times when coming
up." He laughed and replied, that I should lose it altogether before I
went down; and that I must _hand_ it out. "_Hand_ out my _footing_!"
said I, puzzled, and appealing to the midshipman; "what does he mean?"
"He means that you must fork out a seven-shilling bit." I was just as
wise as ever,