The stream is spanned by many bridges, and bridges cannot well be unpicturesque, especially if they have statues to help them out.

The Spree abounds in bridges, and it has a charming habit of slow hay-laden barges; at the landings of the little passenger-steamers which ply upon it there are cafes and summer-gardens, and these even in the inclement air of September suggested a friendly gayety.
The Marches saw it best in the tour of the elevated road in Berlin which they made in an impassioned memory of the elevated road in New York.

The brick viaducts which carry this arch the Spree again and again in their course through and around the city, but with never quite such spectacular effects as our spidery tressels, achieve.

The stations are pleasant, sometimes with lunch-counters and news-stands, but have not the comic-opera-chalet prettiness of ours, and are not so frequent.

The road is not so smooth, the cars not so smooth-running or so swift.
On the other hand they are comfortably cushioned, and they are never overcrowded.