Jack left Garry on the Jersey side and crossed alone. The boy
loved the salt air in his face and the jewelled lights flashed
from the ever-restless sea. He loved, too, the dash and vim of it
all. Forcing his way through the crowds of passengers to the
forward part of the boat, he stood where he could get the full
sweep of the wonderful panorama:
The jagged purple line of the vast city stretching as far as the
eye could reach; with its flat-top, square-sided, boxlike
buildings, with here and there a structure taller than the others;
the flash of light from Trinity's spire, its cross aflame; the
awkward, crab-like movements of innumerable ferry-boats, their
gaping alligator mouths filled with human flies; the impudent,
nervous little tugs, spitting steam in every passing face; the
long strings of sausage-linked canalers kept together by grunting,
slow-moving tows; the great floating track-yards bearing ponderous
cars--eight days from the Pacific without break of bulk; the
skinny, far-reaching fingers of innumerable docks clutching prey
of barge, steamer, and ship; the stately ocean-liner moving to
sea, scattering water-bugs of boats, scows and barges as it glided
on its way:--all this stirred his imagination and filled him with
a strange resolve.
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