At present, however, he was far inferior to them all. He had been asked to go on the trip of the Antelope from a very kindly desire to give him all the advantages possible. He had not the remotest idea what the real purpose of the trip was, but supposed it to be a kind of pleasure party. It is true he saw Messrs. Simmons and Long hammering, rocks; but with his usual caution about committing himself and exposing his ignorance, he had not asked anything about it, nor had he looked at their work. While they were hammering rocks, he was climbing them, or running about the beach. He had not noticed the baskets, but supposed them to be full of provisions; nor had he seen Messrs. Simmons and Long in their tender tare of their specimens after landing on this place. The stones, then, which Pat discovered, wrapped in paper, were utterly unintelligible to him, and the sight of them only seemed to cap the climax of the indignation which was growing in his breast. “Well! well well!” he exclaimed, as he looked at each stone on taking it from the paper. “What’s this? A stone--a muddy stone! By the powers, but isn’t this like a boy askin’ for bread, and gettin’ a stone.” In fact it was no better than a dirty stone in Pat’s eyes. Two very beautiful specimens of moss agate they were; but it would need grinding and polishing to bring out these peculiar beauties. As yet they were concealed. Another and another paper was opened. One contained a white stone, like quartz, enclosing some amethysts; another a piece of sandstone, with peculiar marks on it, very highly prized by Mr. Simmons. These Pat threw on the ground with great indignation. Then he took the rest out without opening them, knowing by the touch and the weight of them what they were. He had a strong hope that something eatable might yet be in the bottom of the basket; but at last all was empty, and there was nothing to eat. His indignation could no longer be repressed. He had a vague idea that some one had done this so as to play a trick on him, and this thought only heightened his passion. So, without thinking of anything but his own wrongs, he seized the unoffending stones by handfuls, and angrily threw them over the bank into the water. Then he sat down gloomily, and tried to conjecture which of the boys it had been who had wrapped all those stones in paper for the sake of tricking him. At first his impulse was to go around among them fiercely and inquire; but at length, from fear of being laughed at, he decided to say nothing about it, but wait and see what would turn up. He was roused from his reverie by a touch on the shoulder. He started hastily, and saw Johnny Blue, looking very mysterious, with something under his jacket. “Hallo! Where, are-the others?” said Pat. “Couldn’t you catch anything?” “The others are up the brook, fishing. I caught _something_,” said Johnny, with a more mysterious look than ever. “What is it? What, have you got under your arm?”