“Well, I do wonder at that,” said Tom, “because you see tea’s better than coffee to keep to.”
“How about climate, Tom?” I said laughing.
“Climate? Ah! yes, I s’pose that do make a difference, Mas’r Harry. But he might grow sugar.”
“Perhaps he does, Tom,” I said, “but we shall see before very long.”
“Well, it won’t be because it isn’t hot enough,” said Tom, wiping his face. “Phew! the sun does go it out here.”
“But it may be colder where my uncle lives, Tom.”
“Why, how can it be, Mas’r Harry, if it’s anywhere out here?”
“Perhaps he’s high up in the mountains, and there it will be much colder.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Well, that is a good un, Mas’r Harry,” laughed Tom. “You had plenty of schooling and I had none, but I do know better than that. Going up closer to the sun and finding it colder! Well, that is a rum un, and no mistake.”
I tried to explain to Tom why it was that the climate was colder in mountain regions, but I suppose I did it in too bungling a way for him to comprehend, and he stood out for his own opinion till he saw, some weeks later, a magnificent specimen of a snow-capped mountain, at which he stared in amazement; and even then he was obstinate enough to declare that, after all, the dazzling whiteness might be due to the clear transparency of crystal rock.