This was the card sent by the reporter of the Gehenna Gazette, and Mrs. Ananias to Mr. Munchausen upon his return from a trip to mortal realms concerning which many curious reports have crept into circulation. Owing to a rumour¹ persistently² circulated at one time, Mr. Munchausen had been eaten by a shark, and it was with the intention of learning, if possible, the basis for the rumour that Ananias and Sapphira called upon the redoubtable³ Baron⁴ of other days.  
Mr. Munchausen graciously received the callers and asked what he could do for them.
 
“Our readers, Mr. Munchausen,” explained Ananias,  “have been much concerned over rumours⁵ of your death at the hands of a shark.”
 
“Sharks have no hands,” said the Baron quietly.
 
“Well—that aside,” observed Ananias. “Were you killed by a shark?”
 
“Not that I recall,” said the Baron. “I may have been, but I don’t remember it. Indeed I recall only one adventure with a shark. That grew out of my mission on behalf of France to the Czar of Russia. I carried letters once from the King of France to his Imperial Coolness the Czar.”
 
“What was the nature of the letters?” asked Ananias.
 
“I never knew,” replied the Baron. “As I have said, it was a secret mission, and the French Government never took me into its confidence. The only thing I know about it is that I was sent to St. Petersburg, and I went, and in the course of time I made myself much beloved of both the people and his Majesty⁶ the Czar. I am the only person that ever lived that was liked equally by both, and if I had attached myself permanently⁷ to the Czar, Russia would have been a different country to-day.”
 
 “What country would it have been, Mr. Munchausen,” asked Sapphira innocently, “Germany or Siam?”
 
“I can’t specify⁸, my dear madame,” the Baron replied. “It wouldn’t be fair. But, at any rate, I went to Russia, and was treated warmly by everybody, except the climate, which was, as it is at all times, very freezing. That’s the reason the Russian people like the climate. It is the only thing the Czar can’t change by Imperial decree, and the people admire its independence and endure it for that reason. But as I have said, everybody was pleased with me, and the Czar showed me unusual attention. He gave fêtes in my honour. He gave the most princely dinners, and I met the very best people in St. Petersburg, and at one of these dinners I was invited to join a yachting party on a cruise around the world.
 
“Well, of course, though a landsman in every sense of the word, I am fond of yachting, and I immediately accepted the invitation. The yacht we went on was the Boomski Zboomah, belonging to Prince—er—now what was that Prince’s name!  Something like—er—Sheeroff or Jibski—or—er—well, never mind that. I meet so many princes it is difficult to remember their names. We’ll say his name was Jibski.”
 
“Suppose we do,” said Ananias, with a jealous grin. “Jibski is such a remarkable⁹ name. It will look well in print.”
 
“All right,” said the Baron, “Jibski be it. The yacht belonged to Prince Jibski, and she was a beauty. There was a stateroom and a steward¹⁰ for everybody on board, and nothing that could contribute to a man’s comfort was left unattended to. We set sail on the 23rd of August, and after cruising about the North coast of Europe for a week or two, we steered¹¹ the craft south, and along about the middle of September we reached the Amphibian¹² Islands, and anchored. It was here that I had my first and last experience with sharks. If they had been plain, ordinary sharks I’d have had an easy time of it, but when you get hold of these Amphibian sharks you are likely to get yourself into twenty-three different kinds of trouble.”
 
 “My!” said Sapphira. “All those? Does the number include being struck by lightning?”
 
“Yes,” the Baron answered, “And when you remember that there are only twenty-four different kinds altogether you can see what a peck of trouble an Amphibian shark can get you into. I thought my last hour had come when I met with him. You see when we reached the Amphibian Islands, we naturally thought we’d like to go ashore¹³ and pick the cocoanuts and raisins¹⁴ and other things that grow there, and when I got upon dry land again I felt strongly tempted¹⁵ to go down upon the beautiful little beach in the harbour and take a swim. Prince Jibski advised me against it, but I was set upon going. He told me the place was full of sharks, but I wasn’t afraid because I was always a remarkably¹⁶ rapid swimmer, and I felt confident of my ability, in case I saw a shark coming after me, to swim ashore before he could possibly catch me, provided I had ten yards start. So in I went leaving my gun and clothing on the beach. Oh, it was fun! The water was quite warm, and the  sandy bottom of the bay was deliciously soft and pleasant to the feet. I suppose I must have sported in the waves for ten or fifteen minutes before the trouble came. I had just turned a somersault in the water, when, as my head came to the surface, I saw directly in front of me, the unmistakable fin

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