"
"Look here, uncle Webb," cried Alf, "you've forgotten your geography. The
higher you go up the colder it gets."
The young man patiently explained to the boy that the height of the
Highlands is not sufficient to cause any material change in climate,
while on still nights the coldest air sinks to the lowest levels, and
therefore the trees in the valleys and at the base of the mountains
suffer the most. "But what you say," he concluded, "is true as a rule.
The mercury does range lower on the hills; and if they were a thousand or
fifteen hundred feet higher peaches could not be grown at all."
Amy mentally soliloquized: "I am learning not only about the mercury, but
also--what Alf has no doubt already found out--that Webb is the one to go
to if one wishes anything explained. What's more, he wouldn't, in giving
the information, overwhelm one with a sense of deplorable ignorance."
In accordance with his practical bent, Webb continued: "I believe that a
great deal of money could be made in the Highlands by raising peaches. The
crop would be almost certain, and the large late varieties are those which
bring the extraordinary prices. What is more, the mountain land would
probably have the quality of virgin soil. You remember, father, don't you,
when peaches in this region were scarcely troubled by disease?"
"Indeed I do. There was a time when they would live on almost like
apple-trees, and give us an abundance of great luscious fruit year after
year.
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