Who was going to destroy the cat, and what the cat would be doing during the process, he did not explain.
I asked him how he proposed I should discover the owner of the cat.

He thought for a while, and then suggested that I might follow it home.

I did not feel inclined to argue with him any more after that; I should only have said things that would have made the matter worse.

As it was, that night's sport cost me twelve marks; and not a single one of the four German officials who interviewed me on the subject could see anything ridiculous in the proceedings from beginning to end.
But in Germany most human faults and follies sink into comparative insignificance beside the enormity of walking on the grass.

Nowhere, and under no circumstances, may you at any time in Germany walk on the grass.
Grass in Germany is quite a fetish.