."

"It is a fish."

"_That_?"

"That."

"But you are laughing."

"Am I?" said the Captain, as grave as a senator. "It's a fish for all
that."

"This curious black thing?"

"Precisely."

[Illustration]

"What sort of a fish?"

"Daisy, have you had any luncheon?"

"No, sir."

"Then you had better discuss that subject first. Soldiers cannot get
along without their rations, you'll find."

"What is that?" said Daisy.

"Rations?"

"Yes, sir."

"Daily bread, Daisy. Of one sort or another as the case may be. Where is
that basket?"

Daisy had charge of it and would not let him take it out of her hands.
She unfolded napkins, and permitted the Captain to help himself when
she had all things ready. Then bread and butter and salad were found to
be very refreshing. But while Daisy eat, she looked at the trilobite.

"Please tell me what it is, Capt, Drummond."

"It is a Crustacean."

"But you know I don't know what a Crustacean is."

"A Crustacean, is a fellow who wears his bones on the outside."

"Capt. Drummond! What do you mean?"

"Well I mean that, Daisy. Did you never hear of the way soldiers used to
arm themselves for the fight in old times? in plates of jointed armour?"

"Yes, I know they did."

"Well these fellows are armed just so--only they do not put on steel or
brass, but hard plates of bone or horn that do exactly as well, and are
jointed just as nicely."

"And those are Crustaceans?"

"Those are Crustaceans."

"And was this thing armed so?"

"Splendidly. Don't you see those marks?--those shew the rings of his
armour. Those rings fitted so nicely, and played so easily upon one
another, that he could curl himself all up into a ball if he liked, and
bring his armour all round him; for it was only on his back, so to
speak."

"And how came he into this rock, Capt. Drummond?"

"Ah! how did he?" said the Captain, looking contentedly at the
trilobite. "That's more than I can tell you, Daisy. Only he lived before
the rock was made, and when it was made, it wrapped him up in it,
somehow; and now we have got him!"

"But, Capt. Drummond I----"

"What is it?"

"When do you suppose this rock was made?"

"Can't just say, Daisy. Some rocks are young, and some are old, you
know. This is one of the old rocks."

"But how do you know, Capt. Drummond?"

"I know by the signs," said the Captain.

"What is an old rock? how old?"

"I am sure I can't say, Daisy. Only that a _young_ rock i