We were living with a family who had several children, and one of them, a little girl about seven years of age, dearly loved to sing. This little girl insisted upon my helping her, but I said, “I cannot sing in German,” when immediately she replied, “I will teach you my tune.” The task was begun, and after a great deal of laughing and many corrections I was able to sing her hymn, “_Stille Nacht_” (Stilly Night). Quickly she ran to her mother and told the news, and I was congratulated, for the family thought I had done a wonderful thing. To tell the truth, I was equally well pleased, and afterward took pleasure in singing my German hymn. You may think, by the way I have been writing, that everything in the old world moves along pleasantly, and that the children are always well and happy. I would not have you think so, because sorrow and distress are there, as well as in this country. In looking out of my window, which was quite often, I saw that which was amusing, and also some things which were very sad. One day a funeral procession passed by, and it consisted of father and mother. Four pall bearers carried a casket containing the corpse of a little child. The rain came down fast, and equally fast fell the tears of sorrow from their eyes as slowly they moved along. There was no hearse, and no carriages. Why? Because the people were poor; it would take money for these things, and there was none to spare. Ah, how my heart ached for them, and I turned from my window with tearful eyes. Poverty is to be found on all sides, and since it is impossible to help all we learn to cast the distressing sights from our minds and leave them with the One who watches over and cares for all. An American is surprised at the cleanliness of German cities. It is no uncommon sight to see well-dressed ladies walking in the middle of the streets. Their shoes and skirts will not be soiled any quicker by walking there than on the sidewalk. We feel ashamed when we compare the dirty streets of American cities with the clean, well-swept streets of Germany, and in our hearts we wished ours might be different. Houses are built three stories high; each floor is arranged for one family, but sometimes there are as many as three families living on one floor, each having no more than one room in which to sleep, cook, eat and sit. I knew a family of five who lived in one room; and they seemed to be well satisfied too.