ead, for what betune holes in the floor an'
beams in the ceilin', tall gintlemen like you, sur, come to grief
sometimes."

Thanking the figure for its civility, Mr Hazlit knocked at the door
indicated, but there was no response.

"Sure it's out they are!" cried the figure from the other end of the
passage. "Joe Baldwin's layin' a charge under the wreck off the jetty
to-day--no doubt that's what's kep' 'im, and it's washin'-day with Mrs
Joe, I belave; but I'm his pardner, sur, an' if ye'll step this way,
Mrs Machowl'll be only too glad to see ye, sur, an' I can take yer
orders."

Not a little amused by this free-and-easy invitation, Mr Hazlit entered
a small apartment, which surprised him by its clean and tidy appearance.
A pretty little Irishwoman, with a pert little turned-up nose, auburn
hair so luxuriant that it _could_ not be kept in order, and a set of
teeth that glistened in their purity, invited him to sit down, and wiped
a chair with her apron for his accommodation.

"You've got a nice little place here," remarked the visitor, looking
round him.

"Troth, sur, ye wouldn't have said that if you'd seen it whin we first
came to it. Of all the dirty places I iver saw! I belave an Irish pig
would have scunnered at it, an' held his nose till he got out. It's
very well for England, but we was used to cleaner places in the owld
country. Hows'iver we've got it made respictable now, and we're not
hard to plaze."

This was a crushing reply. It upset Mr Hazlit's preconceived ideas
regarding the two countries so completely that he was perplexed. Not
being a man of rapid thought he changed the subject:--

"You are a diver, you say?"

"I am, sur."

"And Mr Baldwin's partner--if I understand you correctly?"

"Well, we work together--whin we're not workin' apart--pritty regular.
He took in hand to train me some months gone by, an' as our two
missusses has took a fancy to aich other, we're likely to hold on for
some time--barrin' accidents, av coorse."

"Well, then," said Mr Hazlit, "I came to see Mr Baldwin about a vessel
of mine, which was wrecked a few days ago on the coast of Wales--"

"Och! The _Seagull_ it is," exclaimed Rooney.

"The same; and as it is a matter of importance that I should have the
wreck visited without delay, I shall be obliged by your sending your
partner to my house this evening."

Rooney promised to send Baldwin up, and took his wife Molly to witness,
with much solemnity, that