them. He then, in imitation of me, tried to refresh himself by sucking a
sugar-cane, but was surprised to find he failed in extracting any of the
juice. At last, after some reflection, he said, "Ah! I remember, if
there is no opening made for the air, I can get nothing out." I
requested him to find a remedy for this.

"I will make an opening," said he, "above the first knot in the cane. If
I draw in my breath in sucking, and thus make a vacuum in my mouth, the
outer air then forces itself through the hole I have made to fill this
vacuum, and carries the juice along with it; and when this division of
the cane is emptied, I can proceed to pierce above the next knot. I am
only afraid that going on this way we shall have nothing but empty canes
to carry to our friends." I told him, that I was more afraid the sun
might turn the syrup sour before we got our canes home; therefore we
need not spare them.

"Well, at any rate," said he, "I have filled my flask with the milk of
the cocoa-nut to regale them."

I told him I feared another disappointment; for the milk of the
cocoa-nut, removed from the shell, spoiled sooner than the sugar-cane
juice. I warned him that the milk, exposed to the sun in his tin flask,
was probably become vinegar.

He instantly took the bottle from his shoulder and uncorked it; when the
liquor flew out with a report, foaming like champaign.

I congratulated him on his new manufacture, and said, we must beware of
intoxication.