Then very deftly the boatman pushed the long unwieldy pole into the water and nicked a sponge from the bed, bringing it up intact. On reaching the surface it was seen to be slimy and with a milky fluid dripping from the bottom.
"That's a ripe sponge, you see, Mr. Murren," the boy said, pointing to the milky fluid; "the slimy stuff that's dropping is full of germs of young sponges all ready to grow and swim and fix to something and then become proper sponges."
"That may be a sponge," said the prospective buyer, "but it looks more like a piece of liver."
"Fine sponge, sah,—good yellow sponge," the
boatman said, and Colin did not know enough either to affirm or deny.
"Now, Ah show yo' sheepswool sponge, quite diff'nt," the boatman said, and taking up his water glass he leaned over the edge.
Just as he did so, both Colin and his companion gave a cry.
"Sharks!"
The boatman looked around contemptuously.
"Nu'sing shahks," he said, "sleep all de time." He splashed his hand in the water and the sharks fled in all directions.