nunciation of the word.

"Hooroar it is!" gasped the boatswain. "Bravo, Butters! Well done!
Well done!" cried Poole.

"Well done? I am done, you mean. I thought I'd let him go. Keep back,
some on you--give a fellow room to breathe. That's better," came with
more freedom. "Now then, give your orders, Mr Poole," panted the man;
"I've lost my wind. Get him on his back and pump his into him. That's
your sort!" he continued, as in obedience to the young skipper's
commands two men began to row while the others set to work upon the
first aid necessary in the case of a half-drowned man.

"Ah!" sighed the boatswain, now sitting up in the bottom of the boat and
shuffling himself aft a little so as to give more room. "I am as weak
as a babby. Well done! Pump away, my lads. That's your sort! Pore
chap, he's all water and no wind now! I dunno what he'd been about.
Had he been soaping his feet?--Think he's coming round, Mr Poole?"

"I hope so," was the reply. "I am afraid, poor fellow, he must have
been half-stunned. Come and look, Butters; I want you to feel his
chest." The boatswain came and leaned over. "Keep it up, my lads. It
will be all right soon. Oh yes, his own pump's going on inside. His
kit won't be for sale. But I don't believe he'd have taken his trick at
the wheel again if I hadn't gone down and fetched him up."

"No; you saved his life, Mr Butters," cried Fitz excitedly. "I never
saw anything so brave before. Would you mind--"

"Eh!--What, sir?--Shake hands?--Certainly, sir, hearty, and same to
you!"

"Oh!" ejaculated Fitz involuntarily. "I am very sorry, sir. Did I
squeege too hard?"

"Why, it was a scrunch," said the boy petulantly. "But it's all right
now. Your fingers, though, are as hard as wood."

"Well, they arn't soft, sir. But hallo! I never shut up my knife." He
closed the keen blade with a sharp snap. "There! Now you see the vally
of a lanyard," he continued, as he thrust the great clasp-knife into the
waist-band of his trousers.--"Keep it up, my lads. I'll take a turn as
soon as I've got my own wind again. Ah, there's nothing like a lanyard.
If it hadn't been for that my snickersee would have gone zigger-zagging
down through the dark black water disturbing the little jellyfish and
lighting the way for a snip, snap, swallow, all's fish that comes to
their net style, to go inside some shark. But I've got it safe. It's a
fine bit of Sheffield stuff, and I'll be b