"Sherman," said I, to my stroke oarsman, as we landed on our island,
"why didn't you throw me overboard?"

"You have been kind to us," he replied, "and we never go back on our
friends."

I had the pleasure before I left this school, to secure good positions
for all my crew, and they became useful men. I was soon after this
promoted to the vice-principalship of the institution, and an
ex-minister was appointed my first assistant, a good man, but quite
absent-minded. He recalled to my memory the story of a man who came
home in a pouring rain, put his wet umbrella into bed with his wife,
and stood himself up behind the door where he remained all night.

One day, when I was off duty, I went sailing with two ladies through
"Little Hell Gate," which rushes with great fury by our island, to the
sea. All at once the alarm bell rang. In my haste to get ashore, I
ran the boat onto a partially submerged rock, and it would have been
capsized, had I not jumped out onto the rock and pushed it off. Down
I went under the rushing tide. When I came to the surface I saw the
white belly of a shark, as he turned to seize me in his jaws. I could
almost feel his sharp teeth. My head struck the side of the boat, just
as the ladies, with great presence of mind, grabbed me by the hair,
and pulled me on board. We landed and I rushed, puffing and dripping
like a porpoise, to the wall gate, unlocked it and entered.

A frightful scene was before me. Williams, my assistant, was on the
ground, covered with blood, and around him was a crowd of the worst
boys in the prison, pounding, kicking, and trying to snatch his keys
so as to escape by unlocking the gate. Luckily my bat with which I had