"Neither would I," said Jack; "but that's no reason why you should run books down, or think less of me for having read them. Suppose, now, Peterkin, that you wanted to build a ship, and I were to give you a long and particular account of the way to do it, would not that be very useful?"
"No doubt of it," said Peterkin, laughing.
"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
