a home-sound that has. That kind of police briskness rather more reminds me of my native land than German journalism does.
I think a German daily journal doesn't do any good to speak of, but at the same time it doesn't do any harm. That is a very large merit, and should not be lightly weighed, nor lightly thought of.
The German humorous papers are beautifully printed, upon fine paper, and the illustrations are finely drawn, finely engraved, and are not vapidly funny, but deliciously so. So also, generally speaking, are the two or three terse sentences which accompany the pictures, I remember one of these pictures: a most dilapidated tramp is ruefully contemplating some coins which lie in his open palm, he says, "Well, begging is getting played out. Only about 5 marks ($1.25) for the whole day; many an official makes more!" And I call to mind a picture of a commercial traveler who is about to unroll his samples:
Merchant.—(pettishly) No, don't. I don't want to buy anything!
Drummer.—If you please, I was only going to show you—
Merchant.—But I don't wish to see them!
Drummer.—(after a pause, pleadingly)―But do you mind letting me look at them?—I haven't seen them for three weeks!
