“And suppose I were to write the account in a letter instead of telling you in words, would that be less useful?”
“Well—no, perhaps not.”
“Well, suppose I were to print it and send it to you in the form of a book, would it not be as good and useful as ever?”
“Oh, bother! Jack, you’re a philosopher, and that’s worse than anything!” cried Peterkin with a look of pretended horror.
“Very well, Peterkin, we shall see,” returned Jack, halting under the shade of a cocoa-nut tree. “You said you were thirsty just a minute ago. Now jump up that tree and bring down a nut—not a ripe one; bring a green, unripe one.”
Peterkin looked surprised, but seeing that Jack was in earnest, he obeyed.
“Now cut a hole in it with your penknife and clap it to your mouth, old fellow,” said Jack.
Peterkin did as he was directed, and we both burst into uncontrollable laughter at the changes that instantly passed over his expressive countenance. No sooner had he put the nut to his mouth, and thrown back his head in order to catch what came out of it, than his eyes opened to twice their ordinary size with astonishment, while his throat moved vigorously in the act of swallowing. Then a smile and a look of intense delight overspread his face, except, indeed, the mouth, which, being firmly fixed to the hole in the nut, could not take part in the expression; but he endeavoured to make up for this by winking at us excessively with his right eye. At length he stopped, and drawing a long breath, exclaimed:
“Nectar! perfect nectar!—I say, Jack, you’re a Briton—the best fellow I ever met in my life—Only taste that!” said he, turning to me and holding the nut to my mouth. I immediately drank, and certainly I was much surprised at the delightful liquid that flowed copiously down my throat. It was extremely cool, and had a sweet taste, mingled with acid; in fact, it was the likest thing to lemonade I ever tasted, and was most grateful and refreshing. I handed the nut to Jack, who, after tasting it, said, “Now, Peterkin, you unbeliever! I never saw or tasted a cocoa-nut in my life before, except those sold in shops at home; but I once read that the green nuts contain that stuff; and you see it is true.”
“And, pray,” asked Peterkin, “what sort of ‘stuff’ does the ripe nut contain?”