To give an account of our tour through the United States is at the same time difficult and easy. One could fill volumes with descriptions of all the receptions and festivities we attended.

And yet the human language is poor, because it only inadequately expresses the innermost emotions of our hearts. Our hearts overflowed with thanks and happiness. But if we tried to put down these emotions in black and white, they would lose their spontaneity. It is difficult through the medium of words, although they come from the heart, to reach the heart.

What shall we pick out of the heavy book of our memories? The machine put at our disposal by the Junkers Works, the F13 took us from New York to Philadelphia, and from that moment onwards we entered upon a series of days of mingled pleasure and unrest, whose pace from day to day became accelerated. The monuments of Philadelphia spoke to us of the birth of the first American flag; they and Benjamin Franklin's grave stand out vividly in our memories of that day. Mayor Harry A. Mackay and his Committee were our advisers and guides. The hurrying travellers could not stay long. The strict program called them on.

The inhabitants of Cleveland flocked to the sunny landing place to welcome us. The gifts which we received filled us with deep thanks: but we could not stay. The propeller whirred again. The plane soared, and for a short time we flew through a thunderstorm. But with the approaching evening nature became more peaceful. After

our landing in Chicago, we entered upon a new round of receptions marked by delightful spontaneous festivity. He who understands and feels the beating pulse of this city, experiences a feeling of deep admiration for the racing active eagerness with which this mighty city of the West is working in order to create new things upon old and in striving towards the light. Boldness is the motto of Chicago, and boldness is the motto of its Mayor, William Hale Thompson. This giant, with his warm and friendly heart, led us into the arena—tens of thousands filled the seats of this gigantic sport ground. Its soil had been wrested from the waters of Lake Michigan, and no better place could have been found to show the strangers what the will of Chicago meant and what it could achieve. The white head of the Chairman of the Reception Committee, George F. Getz, appeared. Our memories of Chicago are all linked up with our memories of Mr. Getz. He was as helpful and kind to us as was "Daddy" Whalen.

The wonderful view from Stevens's Hotel over Lake Michigan shows the beauties of nature— the view of the city from the plane shows the powerful energy of never ceasing industry. Onward we had to go.

We enjoyed Sunday with the citizens of Milwaukee, a Spring Sunday as beautiful as only a May day can be. Mayor Daniel W. Hoan, Governor Zimmermann and C. C. Youngreen, chairman of the reception committee were present in person on the flying field, and through rows of waving, cheering people, we proceeded to the lake. It was a most appropriate spot, which somehow emphasized the heartiness of the welcoming speeches. In the evening at the Banquet one or two events were especially noteworthy: one was the welcome extended to us by the Commander of the American Legion. His speech referred to, and laid emphasis on the newly formed and strengthened comradeship, and moved us deeply.

We could only clasp each other's hands in a firm spontaneous grip. The son of Theodore Roosevelt spoke of "old Europe"; spoke of the growth of goodwill in the world. The words "Ambassadors of goodwill" were heard; they made us at once proud and happy. As we flew from Milwaukee to St. Louis, we again thought of these words as we dropped from the air the Irish and German flags over the City Hall of Springfield, a mark of reverence for the tomb of Abraham Lincoln.

By the time we got to St. Louis Old Sol tried to dampen our high spirits by hiding himself behind the clouds. Heavy rain pelted down shortly after our arrival in St. Louis but it could not drown the words of friendly Mayor Victor Miller.

In spite of all the rain the citizens of St. Louis stood in the streets to welcome us. The key of the city which Chicago handed us was small and dainty. St. Louis, the home town of the Spirit of St. Louis, the historic plane of Charles Lindbergh, gave us a mighty key to their gates.

Here, as well as in Chicago, the keys also opened the gates of our hearts, which closed again tightly after absorbing all the kindness and friendship extended to us.

A short stay in Indianapolis was prolonged by unfavorable weather reports. It was impossible to continue the flight on the same day. No offi­cial festivities were held, and yet we were sur­rounded by the friendly attentions of Mayor J. L. Duvall and his sincere followers. The next morning the weather outlook was more hopeful.

Detroit had waited for us one day in vain, but this disappointment which we, or rather the weather, caused the waiting citizens was nowhere taken grudgingly. The first to greet us were Mayor John Lodge and Mr. Edsel Ford. The next person upon whom we looked was the father of our flight, Professor Hugo Junkers. He had already been on American soil several weeks, but we had caught only glimpses of him here and there. Every time we meet the creator of the Bremen our joy is especially great and hearty.

Our trip into the city began. The Western center of industry was in a holiday mood. We were privileged to see the newest Packard motor, and the Ford works gave us Europeans some idea of the genius of this powerful "old man." The name of Henry Ford is almost historic, and we were surprised to encounter a personality so vigorous and full of youthful freshness. Lindbergh's birthplace gave us the opportunity and the joy of becoming personally acquainted with the mother of the great flier. We think with thankfulness of the hour in which Lindbergh's uncle, Mayor John Lodge, introduced us to this modest and distinguished lady. Is not her son one of the chief exponents of a life marked by creative action and bold daring?

Mr. Edsel Ford we shall always remember in a spirit of intense thankfulness and friendship. He was a kind comrade and our best friend in Detroit. Nowhere could we have found a better or kinder guide through this powerful city of industry than the Chairman of the Reception Committee. In him the spirit of sport and energy unite with a kind of personality, which came very close to our hearts. Brock and Schlee, Stinson, Haldeman, Rickenbacker, all these great American fliers we met in this birthplace of American aviation. How gladly we would have remained; how gladly we would have gone more deeply into all the interesting and beautiful things which there presented themselves. But our program called us onward. In order to make use of the night, we travelled to Boston by train, and while still in the train were greeted by Mayor Malcolm Nichols of that city. New festivities, new experiences of an un­forgettable kind, awaited us. Memorial Day awakened old memories and new hopes. The parade of the garrison presented a glittering show in spite of the rain. The American Legion honored us with their highest decoration. Gov­ernor Fuller pinned the Medal of the State of Massachusetts on our breasts, and what else could we say but the small word "thanks." Boston is the last of the big U. S. cities which we visited on our tour. But in our hearts Boston will not take the last place.Our duty called us to Canada. We owed the Canadian Authorities many thanks for all the assistance they had rendered us. Governor Smith's kind invitation to visit him in Albany, was a special honor for us. Albany we thought somewhat akin to Washington. There the tradition of old America lives on: we were reminded of the birth of the greatest coun­try in the world. Intimate, and thereby perhaps heartier, were the receptions and festivities in Al­bany. The Governor of the State of New York, the Mayor of the City of Albany, showered their hospitality upon us and wrote a new page in our book of memories. When night came we stepped into the waiting Pullman car. The following morning found us again on Canadian soil. Montreal extended to us our second welcome to Canada. On Greenly Island we received our first welcome. In spite of the early morning hour Mayor Camillien Houde was at the train. Again receptions followed recep­tions ; again the brain received impressions ; again the heart absorbed them. Our path took us through the wonderful scenery of Canada, in the cars of the Canadian National Railroad to Quebec. There we were in the heart of the province, which was the first to show us, after our landing on the new continent, kindness and spontaneous hospitality. From hill tops we looked down upon the countryside, which was majestic and beautiful, yet which can become so threatening when snow and winter storms rage through it. Under the guidance of Mayor R. Auger we were permitted to attend a tree planting festival—we were allowed to plant trees ourselves, and as we did so we buried deep in the earth our feelings of thanks, and love. A short tea in the fairy-like situated palace of Lt. Gov. Narcisse Perideau, K.C., followed. In the evening in the banquet hall, Prime Minister the Honorable L. A. Taschereau, spoke to us words which came from his very heart and which resounded in our hearts. He advised us to choose the steamer route for our return trip. We were forced to do so, as our good Bremen was badly damaged, and no longer capable of flying. Nevertheless if a single flight can produce such feelings of friendliness as did our flight, we would not hesitate to repeat it at any time.

In Quebec our tour ended. It began, almost against our desire, there in the Province of Quebec. No wonder that our memories wandered back; no wonder if after all the festivities, which came to an end in German and Irish Societies' circles, there arose within us clear and strong the words which we felt at the moment of our landing: