“Oh, it’s hot enough,” interposed Giovanni; “but we don’t mind, do we, Rob?”
“Not a bit. What fruit’s that?”
“Which?” said Shaddy.
“That, on that tree, high up, swinging in the wind—the dark brown thing, like a great nut with a long stalk.”
He pointed to the object which had taken his attention.
“G’long with yer,” growled Shaddy. “I thought you was in arnest.”
“So I am,” cried Rob, looking at the man wonderingly. “I mean that one. It isn’t a cocoa-nut, because the tree is different, and I know that cocoanuts grow on a kind of palm.”
“And that kind o’ nut don’t, eh?” said Shaddy, puckering his face. “Why you are laughing at me.”
“Nonsense! I am not!” cried Rob. “You don’t see the fruit I mean. There, on that tallest tree with the great branch sticking out and hanging over the others. There now! can you see?”
“No,” said Shaddy grimly; “it’s gone.”