nd, faint and dispirited, staggered back to the prison. I had
not, however, lain long upon my bed (polished and slippery from constant
use), when the prison guard came to my side, holding in his hand a smoking
basin of egg soup "for the Englishman." It was sent by the mistress of the
kitchen. I received the offering of a kind heart to a foreigner in
trouble, with a blessing on the donor.

On the following Tuesday, after an imprisonment of, in all, nine days,
during which I had never slept without my clothes, I was discharged from
the prison. In remembrance of the place, I brought away with me a straw
landscape and a bread snuff-box, the works of the prison artist.

On reaching my lodging I looked into my box. It was empty.

"Where are my books and papers?" I asked my landlord.

The police had taken them on the day after my arrest.

"And my bank-notes?"

"Here they are!" exclaimed my landlord, triumphantly. "I expected the
police; I knew you had money somewhere, so I took the liberty of searching
until I found it. The police made particular inquiries about your cash,
and went away disappointed, taking the other things with them."

"Would they have appropriated it?"

"Hem! Very likely--under pretense of paying your expenses."

On application to the police of the district, I received the whole of my
effects back. One of my books was detained for about a week; a member of
the police having taken it home to read, and being as I apprehend, a slow
reader.

It was a matter of great astonishment, both to my friends and to the
police, that I escaped with so slight a punishment.

WHO KNEW BEST?

On the outskirts of the little town of Bernau, with a garden between it
and the road, stands the house of Master Baptist Heinzelmann, a
respectable citizen and cabinet-maker, or _Tischlermeister_, as the
Germans call it, so surrounded and overshadowed by tall trees and shrubs,
that it reminds you of true contentment, which is always quiet and
retiring where it reigns in the heart. Nimble vine-branches climb up the
walls and over the roof, so thick and shady, that birds build their nests
among them, and rest every night under the sheltering leaves. Besides this
there is no other garnishment or decoration to be seen about the dwelling,
although Master Heinzelmann is in very comfortable circumstances. As it
had come down from his father and grandfather, so stood the house at the
time of our tale; one story, compact and