So you see,
lads, that we have no lack of material here to make us comfortable, if
we are only clever enough to use it."
"But are you sure that that's it?" asked Peterkin.
"Quite sure," replied Jack; "for I was particularly interested in the
account I once read of it, and I remember the description well. I am
sorry, however, that I have forgotten the descriptions of many other
trees which I am sure we have seen to-day, if we could but recognise
them. So you see, Peterkin, I'm not up to everything yet."
"Never mind, Jack," said Peterkin, with a grave, patronising expression
of countenance, patting his tall companion on the shoulder--"never
mind, Jack; you know a good deal for your age. You're a clever boy, sir
--a promising young man; and if you only go on as you have begun, sir,
you will----"
The end of this speech was suddenly cut short by Jack tripping up
Peterkin's heels and tumbling him into a mass of thick shrubs, where,
finding himself comfortable, he lay still, basking in the sunshine,
while Jack and I examined the bread-fruit tree.
We were much struck with the deep, rich green colour of its broad
leaves, which were twelve or eighteen inches long, deeply indented, and
of a glossy smoothness, like the laurel. The fruit, with which it was
loaded, was nearly round, and appeared to be about six inches in
diameter, with a rough rind, marked with lozenge-shaped divisions. It
was of various colours, from light pea-green to brown and rich yellow.
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