My son suddenly started up.
“A monkey,” he exclaimed; “I am nearly sure I saw a monkey.”
As he spoke he sprang round to the other side of the tree, and in doing so stumbled over a round substance, which he handed to me, remarking, as he did so, that it was a round bird's nest, of which he had often heard.
“You may have done so,” said I, laughing, “but you need not necessarily conclude that every round hairy thing is a bird's nest; this, for instance, is not one, but a cocoa-nut.”
We split open the nut, but, to our disgust, found the kernel dry and uneatable.
“Hullo,” cried Fritz, “I always thought a cocoa-nut was full of delicious sweet liquid, like almond milk.”
“So it is,” I replied, “when young and fresh, but as it ripens the milk becomes congealed, and in course of time is solidified into a kernel. This kernel then dries as you see here, but when the nut falls on favourable soil, the germ within the kernel swells until it bursts through the shell, and, taking root, springs up a new tree.”
“I do not understand,” said Fritz, “how the little germ manages to get through this great thick shell, which is not like an almond or hazel nut-shell, that is divided down the middle already.”
“Nature provides for all things,” I answered, taking up the pieces. “Look here, do you see these three round holes near the stalk; it is through them that the germ obtains egress. Now let us find a good nut if we can.”
As cocoa-nuts must be over-ripe before they fall naturally from the tree, it was not without difficulty that we obtained one in which the kernel was not dried up. When we succeeded, however, we were so refreshed by the fruit that we could defer the repast we called our dinner until later in the day, and so spare our stock of provisions.
