It has often been a query in my mind whether we fully appreciate the work of the policeman. The soldier’s praise has been sung in every land and in every tongue, but the man who walks the city’s streets has not succeeded in inspiring the muse to any extent. The police are a mighty army in themselves. If one could shout the one word “Police!” so that it might be heard the world over, it would call together an army of more than a million men. Among these would be the stalwart “bobbie” of London, giant Chinese policemen from Hong Kong, barefooted Zulus clothed in English helmets and suits, tens of thousands of American “cops,” and last, but not least, the little brown policeman of Argentina. Buenos Aires alone could furnish five full regiments of a thousand men each. [Illustration: A POLICEMAN OF ARGENTINA] These dark-skinned, undersized men are always on duty. At regular intervals a sergeant comes along and signs the officer’s book, which is his record of service. The summer uniform is white, helmet and all. At night you will see one of these officers at every street intersection. As far as you can see down the narrow thoroughfares one of these white sentries may be seen on duty at every corner. Should a disturbance occur he will blow his whistle and this will be answered for many blocks. Soon policemen will be seen running from the four directions, and in a few minutes quite a force can be collected. A call to the central station would bring an additional force. In this way an incipient disturbance could soon be checked. As these men are under the pay of the national government, they form a part of the defensive forces of the country and are a really creditable body. The mounted men are well mounted and have a very smart appearance as they canter through the streets.