Out came his guide-book, and he tried to fit names to the places along shore.
"More sailing-vessels," he said, "and there goes another train. We must be almost there."
He was right, and he was all one tingle of excitement as the Columbia swept steadily on down the widening river.
There came a pressure of a hand upon his shoulder.
"Goot-morning, my poy. De city ees coming. How you feels?"
"First-rate," said Jack. "It won't be long, now, will it?"
"You wait a leetle. I sleep some. It vas a goot varm night. De varmest night I efer had vas in Egypt, and de coldest vas in Moscow. De shtove it went out, and ve vas cold, I dell you, dill dot shtove vas kindle up again! Dere vas dwenty-two peoples in dot room, and dot safe us. Ye keep von another varm. Dot ees de trouble mit Russia. De finest vedder in all the vorlt is een America,—and dere ees more vedder of all kinds."
On, on, and now Jack's blood tingled more sharply, to his very fingers and toes, for they swept beyond Spuyten Duyvil Creek, which his friend pointed out, and the city began to make its appearance.
"It's on both sides," said Jack. "No, that's New Jersey"—and he read the names on that side from his guidebook.
Masts, wharves, buildings, and beyond them spires, and—and Jack grew dizzy trying to think of that endless wilderness of streets and houses. He heard what Mr. Guilderaufenberg said about the islands in the harbor, the forts, the ferries, and yet he did not hear it plainly, because it was too much to take in all at once.