lf, he threw
his arm over a rock just peeping above the water. But the rock gave a
start and a yawn.

It was a sleeping shark!

The startled fish opened his eyes to their roundest, and backed water.

So did Mr. P.

For an instant they gazed at each other in utter surprise. Then the
shark began slowly to sink. Mr. P. knew what that meant. The monster was
striving to get beneath him for the fatal snap!

Mr. P. sank with him!

With admirable presence of mind he kept exactly even with the fish.

[Illustration.]

At last they reached the bottom.

Mr. P. was nearly suffocated, but he determined that he would strangle
rather than rise first. The shark endeavored to crawl under him, but Mr.
P. clung to the bottom.

The fish then made a feint of rising, but, in an instant, Mr. P. had him
around the waist!

The affrighted shark darted to the surface, and Mr. P. inhaled at least
a gallon of fresh air. Never before had oxygen tasted so good!

On the surface the struggle was renewed, but Mr. P. always kept
undermost.

At last they rested from the contest, and lay panting on the surface of
the water, glaring at each other.

The shark, who was a master of _finesse_, swam out a little way, to
where the water was deeper, and then slowly sank, intending, if Mr. P.
followed him again to the bottom, to stay there long enough to drown the
unfortunate man. But Mr. P. knew a trick worth two of that.

_He didn't follow him at all_! He swam towards shore as fast as he
could, and when the shark looked around, to see if he was coming, he was
safe within the line of surf.

Need it be said that when he reached dry laud, Mr. P. became a hero with
the crowds who had witnessed this heroic struggle?

That evening, as Mr. P. sat upon the portico of his hotel, there came
unto him, in the moonlight, a maiden of the latest fashion.

"Sir," she softly murmured "are you the noble hero who overcame the
shark?"

Mr. P. looked up at her.

Her soft eyes were dimmed with irresponsible emotion.

"I am," said he.

The maiden stood motionless. Her whole frame was agitated by a secret
struggle.

At length she spoke.

"Is there a Mrs. P.?" she softly said.

Mr. P. arose. He grasped the back of his chair with trembling hand. His
manly form quivered with a secret struggle.

He looked upon her!

He gazed for a moment, with glowing, passionate eyes, upon that
matchless form--upon that angelic face, and then--he clasped his brows
in h