"One loves the copper kettle in which his mother has boiled sausages; another loves his broken pipe, his faded coat, and with these a thousand obsolete customs.

Just look at the German emigrants! What a heap of rubbish they take away with them--old birdcages, worm-eaten furniture, and every kind of lumber! I once knew a fellow who took a journey of eight days merely to eat _sauer-kraut_.

And when once a poor devil has squatted in an unhealthy district, and lived there a few years, he has spun such a web of sentimentalism about it that you can not stir him, even though he, his wife and children, should die there of fever.

Commend me to what you call the insensibility of the Yankee.

He works like two Germans, but he is not in love with his cottage or his gear.