I told him to bring me one, and I would explain the mystery.
"There is one," said he, "very like a pumpkin, only harder outside." "Of this shell," said I, "we can make plates, dishes, basins, and flasks.

We call it the gourd-tree." Fritz leaped for joy.

"Now my dear mother will be able to serve her soup properly." I asked him if he knew why the tree bore the fruit on its trunk, or on the thick branches only.

He immediately replied, that the smaller branches would not bear the weight of the fruit.

He asked me if this fruit was eatable.