Menhardoc
Menhardoc
a Story of Cornish Nets and Mines
"They are real living boys, with their virtues and faults. The Cornish fishermen are drawn from life, they are racy of the soil, salt with the sea-water, and they stand out from the pages in their jerseys and sea-boots all sprinkled with silvery pilchard scales."--Spectator.
Book Excerpt
but that's enough for me. Here's a human bein' goin' to be as good as murdered, and I won't be one o' them as stands by and sees it done."
"What nonsense, Josh!" cried Will. "This is regular diving apparatus. That's an air-pump; and the man has air pumped down into his helmet through that india-rubber pipe."
"Garlong; don't tell me, boy," cried Josh indignantly. "Into his helmet indeed! Why, you can see all the water bubbling up round him. That's what it is--pumped away. I tell 'ee I'm off. I won't stop and see the gashly work going on."
Just then there was a cry from one of the men by the gangway, for the life-line was jerked.
"More air!" he shouted; and the men spun the wheel round faster; but the line jerked again.
"There's something wrong!" shouted one of the others. "Here, lay hold there--quick! Keep on there with that handle, stupids! Do you want the man to choke? Pump, I tell you. Now, then, haul!"
"There, I told you so, Will," cried Josh, whose ruddy-brown fa
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