I want some abler
pen to describe the scene. I was not thinking about the scene or the
landscape--I was thinking how I was going to get down that ladder again.
I would come to that iron ladder and peep over, and think if I fell,
how far would I have to fall. The more I thought about going down that
ladder, the more I didn't feel like going down. Well, I felt that I had
rather die than go down that ladder. I'm honest in this. I felt like
jumping off and committing suicide rather than go down that ladder.
I crossed right over the frightful chasm, but when forbearance ceased to
be a virtue, I tremblingly put my foot on the first rung, then grabbed
the top of the two projections. There I remained, I don't know how long,
but after awhile I reached down with one foot and touched the next rung.
After getting that foot firmly placed, I ventured to risk the other foot.
It was thus for several backward steps, until I come to see down--away
down, down, down below me--and my head got giddy. The world seemed to be
turning round and round. A fellow at the bottom hallooed, "Look up! look
up, mister! look up!" I was not a foot from the upper floor. As soon as
I looked at the floor, everything got steady. I kept my eyes fixed on
the top of the building, and soon made the landing on _terra firma_.
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