"Think you can keep your head up there?" said he, with a sharp look.
I told him I had climbed to a steeple-top.
"Yes. But you were lashed fast then in a swing, and had a rope to hold on to. Here you've got to climb up by yourself without anything to hold on to, and it's twice as high as the average steeple."
"How high is that?" I asked.
"Well, the saddles are three hundred and forty feet above the river."
"Saddles?"
"That's what we call 'em. They're beds of steel on top of the towers for the cables to rest on—nice little beds weighing thirty-six tons each."
"Oh!" said I. "How do you get them up?"
"Swing 'em up with steam-derricks and cables. Guess you wouldn't care for that job, hanging out on one o' those booms by your eyelashes."
"Perhaps not," I admitted. "But I'd like to watch it."