BOATMEN AT SINGAPORE.
Frank said that the rapacity of the boatmen of Singapore reminded him of the hackmen of New York; and he began to feel that he was not so far from home after all. It required half an hour of negotiation to make an arrangement that was at all reasonable, as the boatmen had evidently formed an association for mutual advantage; and all efforts that the Doctor made to rouse them to competition were of no use. It was finally settled that for a dollar each our friends were to be carried to the shore, and their baggage taken to the hotel, which was not more than a hundred yards from the landing-place.
The hotel was a large structure of one story in height, with broad verandas, where one could sit and enjoy the breeze that generally blows in the afternoon. Singapore is only one degree and twenty minutes north of the equator—eighty miles—and consequently any one who goes there must expect to find a climate of a most tropical character. Longitudinally it is almost exactly on the opposite side of the earth from New York; and this fact gave rise to some interesting comments by Fred and Frank.
"It is sunset now," said Frank, as they went on shore, "and it is sunrise in New York."
"Yes," answered Fred; "and about the time we are going to bed our friends will be finishing breakfast."
"While we are taking our noonday rest to-morrow they will be sleeping soundly, as it will be midnight with them."
"One question occurs to me," said Frank; "it is sunset in Singapore, and it is morning with our friends at home. Now I want to know if it is this morning, or to-morrow morning with them?"