t the result was a master-piece
which stands alone among the art works of the world. Nor can we forget
the foamy ciborium of the Church of St Lawrence. For sixty-five feet
this miracle of snowy marble rises in the air, growing more lacey at
every step until, in its terminal portions, so delicate does it
become that it seems like the very clouds in fleeciness.

[Illustration: THE CIBORIUM (PYX) CHURCH OF ST. LAWRENCE]

Church doorways are carved with beautiful and fantastic forms by men
whose names were long ago forgotten. Common dwellings are adorned with
picturesque dormer windows. Even the narrow crooked streets hold their
share of beauty, for here are fountains so exquisite in their
workmanship that their like is not to be found elsewhere. Here it is
the Beautiful Fountain, gay with sculptures of heroes and saints, and
there it is the Little Gooseman's Fountain where humor is added to
beauty. Through all the years stands the little man with a goose
under either arm, patiently receiving his daily drenching. Still two
other fountains known to fame send up their crystal waters to greet
the light.

[Illustration]

If we seek for more modern things we are also rewarded, for here in
Durer Square stands Rauch's great statue of the artist, copied from
Durer's portrait of himself in Vienna. We note the custom house, one
of the oldest buildings, the town hall and the burg or castle, which
for many years was the favorite residence of the Emperor.

[Illustration: THE BEAUTIFUL FOUNTAIN IN NUREMBERG
Everywhere I see around me rise the wondrous world of art;
Fountains wrought with richest sculpture standing in the
common mart.--_Longfellow_]

Here, too, are many fine old houses which used to belong to noblemen
of the city. It is not these residences that we seek, however, if
we are visiting Nuremberg. We ask rather for the house of Hans Sachs,
the cobbler poet, of John Palm, the fearless patriot, who gave his
life for the privilege of beating Napoleon, and above all we seek that
quaint house where Durer lived and worked. In choosing these as
objects of our special attention we feel like Charles I., who said,
when he compelled a reluctant courtier to hold Durer's ladder, "Man
can make a nobleman, but only God can make an artist."

In our search for interesting things in old Nuremberg, we come
suddenly upon a house bearing a tablet on which are these words,
"Pilate's House." At first we are mystified