{"id":"01KG8AKXT6G9QHJF1QPPMPNS04","cid":"bafkreigpycqhxebl4z24ekjrz53mipsmp5gru5nymlxsgx5qk4a2grkrdy","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":10196,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:14.843Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","start_line":10120,"text":"irresistible necessity of decamping from terra-firma in order to evade\r\nthe constables.\r\n\r\nThese white-fingered gentry must be light-fingered too, they say to\r\nthemselves, or they would not be after putting their hands into our\r\ntar. What else can bring them to sea?\r\n\r\nCogent and conclusive this; and thus Harry, from the very beginning,\r\nwas put down for a very equivocal character.\r\n\r\nSometimes, however, they only made sport of his appearance; especially\r\none evening, when his monkey jacket being wet through, he was obliged\r\nto mount one of his swallow-tailed coats. They said he carried two\r\nmizzen-peaks at his stern; declared he was a broken-down quill-driver,\r\nor a footman to a Portuguese running barber, or some old maid’s\r\ntobacco-boy. As for the captain, it had become all the same to Harry as\r\nif there were no gentlemanly and complaisant Captain Riga on board. For\r\nto his no small astonishment,—but just as I had predicted,—Captain Riga\r\nnever noticed him now, but left the business of indoctrinating him into\r\nthe little experiences of a greenhorn’s career solely in the hands of\r\nhis officers and crew.\r\n\r\nBut the worst was to come. For the first few days, whenever there was\r\nany running aloft to be done, I noticed that Harry was indefatigable in\r\ncoiling away the slack of the rigging about decks; ignoring the fact\r\nthat his shipmates were springing into the shrouds. And when all hands\r\nof the watch would be engaged _clewing up a t’-gallant-sail,_ that is,\r\npulling the proper ropes on deck that wrapped the sail up on the yard\r\naloft, Harry would always manage to get near the _belaying-pin, so_\r\nthat when the time came for two of us to spring into the rigging, he\r\nwould be inordinately fidgety in making fast the _clew-lines,_ and\r\nwould be so absorbed in that occupation, and would so elaborate the\r\nhitchings round the pin, that it was quite impossible for him, after\r\ndoing so much, to mount over the bulwarks before his comrades had got\r\nthere. However, after securing the clew-lines beyond a possibility of\r\ntheir getting loose, Harry would always make a feint of starting in a\r\nprodigious hurry for the shrouds; but suddenly looking up, and seeing\r\nothers in advance, would retreat, apparently quite chagrined that he\r\nhad been cut off from the opportunity of signalizing his activity.\r\n\r\nAt this I was surprised, and spoke to my friend; when the alarming fact\r\nwas confessed, that he had made a private trial of it, and it never\r\nwould do: _he could not go aloft;_ his nerves would not hear of it.\r\n\r\n“Then, Harry,” said I, “better you had never been born. Do you know\r\nwhat it is that you are coming to? Did you not tell me that you made no\r\ndoubt you would acquit yourself well in the rigging? Did you not say\r\nthat you had been two voyages to Bombay? Harry, you were mad to ship.\r\nBut you only imagine it: try again; and my word for it, you will very\r\nsoon find yourself as much at home among the spars as a bird in a\r\ntree.”\r\n\r\nBut he could not be induced to try it over again; the fact was, _his\r\nnerves could not stand it;_ in the course of his courtly career, he had\r\ndrunk too much strong Mocha coffee and gunpowder tea, and had smoked\r\naltogether too many Havannas.\r\n\r\nAt last, as I had repeatedly warned him, the mate singled him out one\r\nmorning, and commanded him to mount to the main-truck, and unreeve the\r\nshort signal halyards.\r\n\r\n“Sir?” said Harry, aghast.\r\n\r\n“Away you go!” said the mate, snatching a whip’s end.\r\n\r\n“Don’t strike me!” screamed Harry, drawing himself up.\r\n\r\n“Take that, and along with you,” cried the mate, laying the rope once\r\nacross his back, but lightly.\r\n\r\n“By heaven!” cried Harry, wincing—not with the blow, but the insult:\r\nand then making a dash at the mate, who, holding out his long arm, kept\r\nhim lazily at bay, and laughed at him, till, had I not feared a broken\r\nhead, I should infallibly have pitched my boy’s bulk into the officer.\r\n\r\n“Captain Riga!” cried Harry.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJT56E0P2PPTSG89EMH92","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKXT64PY1CGZJCDX0ATJQ","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKXT6VEMPKMB2WNETV88N","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:20.294Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:33.574Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}