all
nationalities, and steam ferry-boats with two or three decks which
performed the service on the Sacramento and its affluents.

Passe-partout was so delighted to reach America, that he thought it
necessary to execute one of his most active leaps. But when he landed
upon the quay, he found the planks worm-eaten, and he went through
them. His cry of alarm frightened all the birds which perched upon
these floating quays.

Mr. Fogg's first care was to ascertain when the next train left for
New York. It started at six o'clock, so they had a whole day before
them. Then hiring a carriage, they drove to the International Hotel.
From his position on the box of the vehicle, Passe-partout observed
with great curiosity the wide streets, the rows of lofty houses, the
churches and other places of worship built in the Anglo-Saxon gothic
style, immense docks, palatial warehouses, innumerable cabs,
omnibuses, and tramway-cars; while Americans, Europeans, Chinese, and
Indians occupied the pathways. San Francisco surprised Passe-partout.
It was no longer the habitation of bandits, incendiaries, and
assassins, who gambled for gold-dust, a revolver in one hand and a
knife in the other. This "good time" had passed. The city was now the
hive of commerce. The tower of the city-hall overlooked the labyrinth
of streets and avenues, which crossed each other at right angles,
amongst which verdant squares extended; and the Chinese quarter looked
like an importation from the Celestial Empire in a toy-puzzle.
Sombreros, red shirts, and Indian head-dresses had given way to silk
hats and black coats, and some of the principal streets were lined
with splendid shops, offering the products of the whole world for
sale.

When Passe-partout reached the International Hotel, he could scarcely
recognise that he was not in England. The ground-floor of this immense
building was occupied by a bar, at which free lunch of cold meat,
oyster soup, biscuits and cheese, was always to be had; wine or beer
had to be paid for. The restaurant was comfortable. Mr. Fogg and Mrs.
Aouda sat down to a table, and were waited on by the blackest of
negroes.

After breakfast, Phileas Fogg, accompanied by Mrs. Aouda, went to the
English Consul to have his passport _vised_. On the pavement he met
his servant, who wanted to know whether he should not purchase some
revolvers and rifles. Passe-partout had heard of Sioux and Pawnees,
who are in the habit of stopping the trains.