that chap in
the song who `went aloft and did his duty'?"

I grinned.

"Yes, sir, I believe so," I said. "Father says as how our family is
descended from him."

"I can quite believe it," observed the instructor kindly, with a
pleasant smile on his face. "At all events, a sailor's blood runs in
your veins, my lad; and, as you're such a good climber and know your way
up the ratlines, just go up now and show that lubber of a greenhorn how
to get up the futtock shrouds without tumbling, and so over the
masthead."

Accordingly, I raced aloft the second time and soon fetched up to
`Ugly,' who, in a mortal funk, was trying to step out from the lower
rigging on to the futtock shrouds, which, I may explain for the benefit
of those who have not been to sea, stretch out laterally from the mast,
and not in towards it, like the ordinary standing rigging below.

In spite of his difficulty, however, the surly brute now accepted my
help with a very ill grace; muttering under his breath to himself some
very unfriendly wishes in my respect, as, with some difficulty, I lugged
him up into the top, almost by the scruff of his neck.

The rest of the journey up and down was easy enough; and `Ugly,'
rendered bold by having crossed his goal, the crosstrees, disdaining any
further help from me, now started, after he had arrived in the top,
again on the return voyage to climb down the shrouds by himself.

But hardly had he got his foot over the side of the top than his courage
failed him; and I, looking up, on account of feeling the rigging shake,
for I had gone down in advance from his telling me he `didn't want no
help from sich a cove as me,' saw that he was trembling like an aspen
leaf, while his face was as pale as death.

"Hold on," I cried, "I'll be up with you in half a minute, and lend you
a hand!"

I don't know whether he heard me or not as I scrambled up hastily
towards him; but the next instant, losing his grip of the rope he was
hanging on to somehow or other, he fell back on top of me, uttering a
wild yell that was almost a scream, and which could have been heard
ashore at Gosport!

CHAPTER EIGHT.

"THE SWEETS OF FRIENDSHIP."

"How did you manage it, my boy?" panted out the instructor, out of
breath by his rapid climb up the rigging to my aid, as I held on
desperately to the shrouds, against which I pressed the body of my
unconscious shipmate with my own, to prevent him from falling. "Lord!
My lad, I thought