little machicoulis turrets, which served as guard-rooms for observing
the enemy, and also, by overhanging the base of the tower, enabled the
garrison to hurl down on their assailants at the foot of the wall a
hurricane of projectiles of every sort. Like the wall the towers are
built almost entirely of sandstone, but on the side facing the town they
are usually faced with brick. The shapes of the roofs vary from flat to
pointed, but the towers themselves are simple and almost austere in form
in comparison with those generally found in North Germany, where fantasy
runs riot in red brick. The Nuremberg towers were obviously intended in
the first place for use rather than for ornament.

At the end of our long perambulations of the walls it will be a grateful
relief to sit for a while at one of the "Restaurations" or restaurants
on the walls. There, beneath the shade of acacias in the daytime, or in
the evening by the white light of incandescent gas, you may sit and
watch the groups of men, women, and children all drinking from their
tall glasses of beer, and you may listen to the whirr and ting-tang of
the electric cars, where the challenge of sentinels or the cry of the
night-watchman was once the most frequent sound. Or, if you have grown
tired of the Horn- and the Schloss-zwinger, cross the ditch on the west
side of the town and make your way to the Rosenau, in the
Fürtherstrasse. The Rosenau is a garden of trees and roses not lacking
in chairs and tables, in bowers, benches, and a band. There, too, you
will see the good burgher with his family drinking beer, eating
sausages, and smoking contentedly.

[Footnote A: From "The Story of Nuremberg." Published by E.P. Dutton &
Co.]