"What! four hundred?" exclaimed Rollo.
"Yes," said Mr. George. "A botanist made a catalogue of four hundred and twenty plants, all growing on the ruins of this single building."
"O, uncle George!" said Rollo; "I don't think that can possibly be. I mean to see."
So saying, Rollo laid the opera glass down upon the seat where he had been sitting, and began to examine the masses of old ruined masonry near him, with a view of seeing how many different kinds of plants he could find.
"Must I count every thing, uncle George?" said Rollo.
"Yes," said Mr. George, "every thing that is a plant. Every different kind of sprig, or little weed, that you can find—mosses, lichens, and all."
Rollo began to count. He very soon got up to twenty, and so he came to the conclusion that the guide book—which was the authority on which Mr. George had stated the number of plants found upon the ruins—was right.
While Rollo was thus engaged, Mr. George had remained quietly in his seat, and had occupied himself with studying the guide book.
"Uncle George," said Rollo, when he came back, "I give it up. I have no doubt that there are hundreds of plants in all, growing on these ruins."
"Yes," said Mr. George; "whatever is stated in this book is very apt to prove true."