Now I do not know how brave an English lord may be or how much it may take to scare him, but I, Lord Dolphin, inhabitant of the great Mediterranean Sea, was scared nearly out of my wits and skin by the sight I saw one day.

But there is this to comfort me: if I was a coward at the sight, there were plenty of other creatures in the sea to keep me company. Mercy on us! Such a scuttling and rushing, such a whisking and a whacking, flying and plunging, I for one never saw before. There was actually a chorus of flapping fins and thumping tails as we raced for our lives.

Was it a steam-engine or a monster boiler that was coming right down from upper regions into our midst? Or, had some new sea-monster fallen from the skies to drive us from our hunting and fishing grounds?

We knew something about sea-lions, the huge creature that you may have seen at the Zoo, or in a tank at the park, lifting itself like an enormous sea-horse, and roaring like the animal whose name it bears. But a sea-lion would not have cut through the water from way above. It would have come steering along like a great black vessel, puffing and blowing, while all the time it would have been a creature of the sea, and we should have known it, and not have been so terrified.

Or, had a whale come bearing down from upper waters, as they sometimes do, there would have been a disturbance first, made by the spouting and slashing that our instinct at once would have told us came from some monster of the deep.

Or, again, had it been the hulk of a vessel that could not stand some violent storm, oh, yes, we should have known what that was, too. But now, off tore the fishes, mad with terror, big fishes, little fishes, fat fellows, lean fellows, pleasant ones, and grumblers.

I laughed, yes, with all my fright I had to laugh at such a funny sight. I was behind what Folks call "whole schools of fishes," only they speak of "a school of fish," meaning many of one kind, but the madcap crowd I looked upon was made up of almost every size and sort.

I saw a porpoise—porpus—my enormous cousin, all of fifteen feet long, crowd in midst a multitude of swift little swimmers, as if he meant to make them help in spinning him through the water faster than he could go by himself. Then on the back of another Dolphin, I saw a crowd of little fishes that seemed so stiff with fear, they had been knowing enough to cling to the back of the great fish, making a boat of him to bear them to a place of safety.

Paddling sideways, I caught a glimpse of the flying-fish that had been my tormentor. All at once I stopped short.

Now they say that some Folks are very curious. I do not mean that they are odd or amusing to look at. But they have curiosity, and want to peer and pry into things. It is not at all nice to want to find out all about other Folks' affairs. It belongs to a poor, mean nature to want to do that. But to want to inquire into matters for the sake of getting true knowledge is right and worthy even for a fish.

And suddenly I had determined to see just what that amazing creature could be. If it caught and swallowed me alive, it might, but—it would take a pretty big swallow to make away with Lord Dolphin. I confess to going to work very much like a sneak. But it was quite easy, seeing all the other fishes had made off and left me a clear field, to hide midst a bed of tall sea-bushes.

So, very gently back I paddled, with motion slow and noiseless, to the region where the monster had come down.

How shall I describe it? In the first place, I had never seen such a shape before. The time when I was borne aloft on high waves, and looked into a ship's cabin, I saw forms something like unto this one in some respects, but, dear sakes, not with such hideous parts! But now, to name at once and describe afterwards,—

It was a diver!

The diver belongs to the Folks family, but, bless us, his rig! Imagine, if you can, a black object, with a great bunchy machine of a head, and for the rest, a mass of fixtures, such as would puzzle a far more stupid creature than a Dolphin to make out.

I have seen a diver many times since then, and am now able to tell a little about the fantastic-looking being. Of course, there is very much more to be known, but if you remember what I say, it will give you some idea of a diver's outfit that may linger in your mind, to be added to as you grow older.

First, then, close to his skin are warm woollen garments, sometimes two or even three sets of them. If the weather is cold, he may have on two or three pairs of warm stockings. How would you like being bundled up in that way? Yet that is only the beginning.

Close to his head is a woollen cap coming down over his ears. Thick shoulder-pads keep his outside suit from grazing or hurting, and it may be that other pads are about his body. He next goes into an outside suit of India rubber, covered both inside and outside with a tanned twill which is water-proof, and the rubber itself has been treated in a way to make it very hard and lasting. There is a double collar about the neck, of tough, sheet rubber, and one is to draw well up about the neck.

He must have assistance in getting into these rigid clothes, for it is hard working the arms into the stiff sleeves, and forcing the hands through cuffs which are made to expand or let out as they are drawn on, then close tight in some odd way with rubber rings and joints at the wrist, making the sleeves perfectly air tight.

Great care is taken in dressing the diver. Everything must fit perfectly, every screw must be properly wound in, every strap and buckle made fast, or the poor diver may be in great danger. His breastplate of copper is fastened on with metal clasps or bolts. A fixture at his back steadies the weights both back and front, weighing forty pounds each. These weights, it must be, are in some way supported by the ropes with which they let him down.

Such boots! Stout leather, with soles of lead, securely strapped on, and weighing at least twenty pounds each. A band fitted about his waist is kept in place by strong braces.

Then his helmet! Tinned copper, and full of screws, pipes, and hooks. On the face part were three openings as in a lantern, in which were screwed plate-glasses, or bull's-eyes. These, of course, were to see through, and stood out like little telescopes, or half-tumblers, with brass frames around them called "guards" which protect the glass, that is thick and strong.

There were also queer valves, or tubes, in the helmet for letting out bad air, yet so contrived that no water could get in. A hook was on either side, through which ropes must pass.

The diver can breathe while under water by means of an air-pipe, and by pulling on a life-line, can make his wants known to those above.

When the diver is all ready to descend, a man at the pump begins supplying him with air, and down he goes, first on an iron ladder at the vessel's side, then on long ladders of rope, with heavy weights at the ends.

I peeped from midst great weed-pads, and saw the diver as he reached the bottom of the sea. Do you wonder I trembled, yet was amused at what I saw? In his hands this time—for I saw him more than once after this—was a great hook and a light bag with a wide-open mouth. And what do you think? He had come to get sponges from the blue sea. Of course not at very great depth.

He knew his work. With the long hook, sponge after sponge was torn from its clung-to home on the slippery rocks, and quickly popped into the bag. He always moved backwards. If anything stopped him, rock, wreck, or floating weeds, he could turn slowly and carefully around, and see what it was. But should he meet an object suddenly at the fore, it might break even his shielded glass. Then he must immediately give the signal to be raised aloft.

Divers must begin by going down only a little way under the water, as it takes great skill and long practice to be able to go safely into deep water. A diver has about him a coil of line connected with the ladder, which he unwinds as he moves away; but by winding it about him again, he can find his way back to the ladder.

If two divers go down at the same time, I notice they take great care not to let their air-lines or life-lines cross each other's, and so get entangled. It might be a very serious affair to get them mixed.

I see that divers may go down from either a barge, a sailing vessel, or a large yacht, but there must be a deck that can hold the necessary machines and rigging to help them in their work. By casting down heavy pieces of lead, the sailor-Folk can "sound," or tell the distance to the bottom of the sea. The diver's line must always be twice the length of the distance he goes down.

I did not find this all out at once. Oh, by no means, but by not running away I gradually learned a great deal. And I was so glad I saw the queer performance! The frightened fishes were not quick to come back to their playground, where such a looking object had come swinging down, and when he came again the next day, and the next, I had the place to myself, and watched while he pretty well cleared that region of its fine, valuable sponges.

The next time I saw a diver it was in deeper water. I was sporting to and fro at another time when there was just such a panic among the fishes as I had seen before, and just such a scramble.

Down, down came the fearsome looking object, while I mixed myself in with a mass of sea-flowers, and keeping perfectly still, was not noticed. The diver's dress was much the same as the other's had been; he went backwards in the same cautious way, but instead of a long-handled hook, he carried only a queer bag that was let down to him by ropes.

The bag was deep, and had a frame along the top, with a scraper fastened to it. And what do you think again? He began scraping in all the conch-shells he could see that had what looked like a dab of mud or a milky spot on the side.

He was after pearls!

Divers often fish for pearls midst oyster-beds, and in more shallow water, but there are nets or dredgers also used for that purpose. But I at once knew that very valuable pearls must often be found in conch-shells and deep-sea oyster-shells, as the diver scraped in all of both that he could find.

Remember! All kinds of shell-fish are called "mollusca," have white blood, and breathe not only in the water, but also in the air.

And will you believe it? I have found out considerable about the signals that a diver gives to the man at the pump on deck.

If he wants to be pulled up, be gives the life-line four sharp pulls. If he wants more air, he gives one pull at the air-pipe. Two pulls on the life-line, and two pulls on the air-pipe, given quickly one after the other, mean that he is in trouble, and wants the help of another diver. One pull on the life-line means "all right."

There are many other signals I could not find out the meaning of, so can say nothing about. My instincts, as well as what I have noticed, tell me that a diver must be in the best of health, must be rather thin, have excellent eyesight, sound lungs, steady nerves, and a strong heart. The work is not easy. I wonder if work that pays well is often easy? I do not believe it is.

There used to be a strange machine in use called the "diving-bell." A great cast-iron cage, shaped something like a bell, let down by ropes, and so heavy that its own weight would sink it. Divers could sit inside, and fresh air was supplied by a force-pump. Bull's-eyes of heavy glass let in the light.

This must have frightened the fishes quite as much as did the diver, although it was not as frightful in appearance.

After a time, when the diver came down, some of my mates, seeing I was not a bit afraid if only hidden from sight myself, stayed near me under the broad seaweeds, but most of them fled far and wide at his approach.

The divers themselves are not free from danger. Great sea-serpents or sharks sometimes make it hot for them, but they are watchful, spry, and being "Folks," with power to think and plan, can generally look out for themselves and their safety.