We tipped a little more.
“A leetle more!”
We tipped a leetle more.
“Just a leetle, very leetle bit more.”
With great difficulty we tipped just a leetle, very leetle more.
All this time my uncle was diligently stooping over, and striving to peep in, up, and under the box where the coiled anacondas and adders lay; but the machine being now fairly immersed, the attempt was wholly vain.
He rose erect, and waded slowly all round the box; his countenance firm and reliant, but not a little troubled and vexed.
It was plain something or other was going wrong. But as I was left in utter ignorance as to the mystery of the contrivance, I could not tell where the difficulty lay, or what was the proper remedy.
Once more, still more slowly, still more vexedly, my uncle waded round the box, the dissatisfaction gradually deepening, but still controlled, and still with hope at the bottom of it.
Nothing could be more sure than that some anticipated effect had, as yet, failed to develop itself. Certain I was, too, that the water-line did not lower about my legs.