"Look at that!" cried Jack, as he viewed the scene before him. "What
does it all mean? Why don't we go up to the dock in regular style,
and not stop away out here?"
"There aren't any really good docks in San Juan, though there may be
some built soon," said Mr. Robinson. "We'll have to go ashore in
some of these craft. They're all right. I'll see to our luggage."
"Well, this is some difference from New York," commented Jack.
"Yes, and that's the beauty of it," remarked his sister. "It is the
change that is going to do you good, Jack dear," and she smiled at
him, brightly.
"I'm beginning to feel better already, Sis," he answered, and there
was a keener look in his eyes that had been so tired, while his
checks were flushed with the warmth of the air, and the excitement in
anticipation of new scenes.
"Well, get ready, girls!" called Mr. Robinson, "Get all your
furbelows and fixings together, and we'll go ashore in one of these
boats. My! but it's warm!"
It was hot, with the heat of the tropics, for the rainy season was
not yet fully over, though it was approaching its end, and more
pleasant weather might be expected.
Porto Rico, I might explain, nearly resembles the climate of Florida,
though it is not quite so hot in summer, nor so cold in winter. It
is nearly always like June in Porto Rico, the thermometer then, and
in July, reaching its maximum of eighty-six, the average being
seventy-two.
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