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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Sure, Miss," observed Rooney Machowl, with great simplicity of aspect, "he does it by drawin' in an' puffin' out the air through his mouth an' nose." "Very true," observed Miss Pritty, with a good-natured smile, for even she could see that the Irishman was poking fun at her; "but how is air conveyed to him?"
Joe Baldwin was enjoying a quiet pipe at his own fireside in company with his buxom wife and his friends Mr and Mrs Rooney Machowl when Miss Pritty tripped up to his door and knocked. She was received warmly, for Joe sympathised with her affectionate and self-denying spirit, and Mrs Joe believed in her. Woe to the unfortunate in whom Mrs Joe alias Susan did not believe.
"It's a brush we'll be havin' soon," said Rooney Machowl, with a flash of the eye which told that he inherited a little of his nation's love of fighting. "Looks like it," replied Maxwell, who sat beside his friend in the midst of a group of the Malay crew, rubbing up his cutlass with much interest. "Does anybody know how many of a crew we have altogether?" asked Rooney.
Nothing more appeared to pass between the two, indeed there seemed no time for further communication nevertheless Rooney Machowl declared that some telegraphic signals by means of hands and fingers had certainly been exchanged. In a short time the boat was turned sharp round by Baldwin, and run into a cove near a wall in which was a little wooden gate.
"And, one of you," said the captain, turning to the man who chanced to be nearest him, "go into the cabin and bring up the sofa cushions; we shall want them to protect the legs of the men stationed on the poop." Rooney Machowl happened to be the man who received this order. He at once descended.
Miss Pritty, as if fascinated, leant forward, the better to observe her foe. Suddenly, like the lightning-flash, and without even a shriek of warning, she lost her balance and dived head-foremost into the bosom of Rooney Machowl! Well was it for the bold Irishman that Miss Pritty was a light weight, else had he that day ended his career in the jungles of Borneo.
What d'ee mane by it, Chok-foo? Didn't I say I'd give you as much baccy as ye could chaw or smoke an ye'd only kape out o' this place? Come along wid ye!" It is perhaps scarcely necessary to say that the man who spoke, and who immediately collared and dragged Chok-foo away, was none other than our friend Rooney Machowl.
When fully equipped, the diver carried on his person a weight fully equal to that of his own bulky person. "Now look here, Mister Edgar, an' pay partikler attention, Rooney Machowl. This here toobe, made of indyrubber, d'ee see? It communicates with that there pump, and when these two men work the pump, air will be forced into the helmet and into the dress down to his very toes.
Annyhow I can't git work, an' I've a wife an' chick at home, who've bin so long used to praties and bacon that their stummicks don't take kindly to fresh air fried in nothin'. So ye see, sur, findin' it difficult to make a livin' above ground, I'm disposed to try to make it under water." While Rooney Machowl was speaking Baldwin regarded him with a fixed and critical gaze.
"Now, take yourself off, as quietly as you can, else I'll have you taken up and tried for entering a man's premises forcibly, and endeavouring to obtain money by intimidation. Go!" This was a bold stroke on the part of the merchant, whose legal knowledge was not extensive, but it succeeded. The landlord pocketed the money and moved towards the door. Rooney Machowl followed him.
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