the ferryboat. They were all as far forward as they could get.

"Did you ever see any thing just like this?" asked Dab.

"Well, no, not just like it"--

"In India, or in China, or in London, or in Africa?" said Ford.

"It's a little different from any thing I ever saw."

"Well, isn't it bigger?"

That was a question Frank might have undertaken to answer if there had
been proper time given him; but just then the boat was running into her
"slip," away down town, and Ford exclaimed,--

"Hurrah, boys! Now for Fulton Market and some oysters."

"Oysters?" said Dab.

"Yes, sir! There's more oysters in that old shanty than there are in
your bay."

"I don't know about that," said Dab, staring at the queer, huge, rickety
old mass of unsightly wood and glass that Ford was pointing at, after
they got ashore. "I'm hungry, anyhow."

"Hungry? So am I. But no man ought to say he's been in New York till
he's tried some Fulton-Market oysters."