One thing there was, however, which greatly marred their joy, and that was the thought of poor Pat. Perhaps he still was wandering in the woods, having given up his chase, calling for them, and thinking that they had deserted him. The thought of poor Pat’s loneliness was a sad one to all of them, and they could only find consolation in their belief in his perfect ability to take care of himself. At books he might not be very brilliant, but in all the practical matters of life Pat was certainly in every way worthy of being left entirely to himself. Under such circumstances, Pat was able to shine with uncommon brilliancy. In all probability, he would fare better if left to his own devices, than he would if he were a member of a crowd of school-boys. With such thoughts as these they comforted themselves, and thus tried to overcome their anxiety about Pat. They had walked about half a mile after leaving the woods, when they saw a figure approaching them. It was not far away when they first noticed that figure, and it appeared strangely familiar. They came nearer and nearer. The familiar outlines of the approaching figure grew more and more distinct. At last the figure came close up to them, and then suspicions became a delightful certainty. Yes! It was no other than Pat himself! A wild uproar of cheers and voluble questionings greeted the returning wanderer. “When did you get out of the woods?” they asked. “Whin, is it? Sure it wor ony five minutes ago.” “Where are you going?” “Where, is it? Sure I’m goin back till the ‘Cad’my.” “The Academy? Pooh! you’re going straight away from it. Come along with us. Didn’t you hear us calling you?” “Callin me? Niver a call did I hear.” “Why, we followed you, and yelled, and shouted, and halloed, and hooted, and screamed, and bawled, and roared, and squalled, and whistled, and crowed, and croaked, and made every noise that we could make. We gave up everything to find you. It was only by chance that we found the road. We have just been talking about you. We were thinking about going into the woods again a little way, and shouting. But where’s your pole, and what’s become of the animal that you were chasing?” “Sure an it’s the mischief itsilf intirely. Niver did I see such a baste. I chased it, an chased it, an it dodged, an I thought I sthruck it a hundhred times; but the little baste got off afther all, so it did.” “So you didn’t catch it.” “Catch it? Niver a catch. It tuk me tip into a place that I couldn’t get out of fur half an hour. I lost me pole, an gave up. I couldn’t find a sign of it, an I wandhered about, whin all av a suddint, I found mesilf by the road. An be the powers! it wor mesilf that wor glad till find that same. The dirty little baste that wudn’t let itsilf be caught, like a Christian!” “What dirty little baste?” “Why, the wild turkey.” “Wild turkey! Ha, ha, ha!” “Wild duck, thin.” “Wild duck!” cried the boys; and another laugh followed.