To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,
Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled;
And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
You heard as if an army muttered;
And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
And the grumbling grew to a mighty
rumbling;

And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.

Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, 'black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,

Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,

Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Curling tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives— Followed the piper for their lives. From street to street he piped, advancing, And step for step they followed, dancing, Until they came to the River Weser,

Wherein all plunged and perished Save one, who, stout as Julius Cæsar, Swam across, and lived to carry

(As he the manuscript he cherished) To Rat-land home his commentary; Which was-"At the first shrill notes of the pipe,

I heard a sound as of scraping tripe;
And putting apples, wondrous ripe,
Into a cider press's gripe;

And a moving away of pickle-tub boards,
And a leaving ajar of conserve cupboards;
And a drawing the corks of train oil flasks,
And a breaking the hoops of butter casks;
And it seemed as if a voice

(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery Is breathed) called out, 'O rats, rejoice! The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!

So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,

Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!'
And just as a bulky sugar puncheon,

All ready staved, like a great sun shone
Glorious, scarce an inch before me,

Consult with carpenters and builders, And leave in our town not even a trace Of the rats!" when suddenly up the face Of the piper perked in the market-place, With a "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!"

A thousand guilders! The mayor looked blue;

So did the corporation too.

To pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gipsy coat of red and yellow! "Besides," quoth the mayor, with a knowing wink,

Our business was done at the river's brink;

We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, And what's dead can't come to life, I think:

So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink From the duty of giving you something to drink,

And a matter of money to put in your poke;

But as for the guilders, what we spoke

Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.

Besides, our losses have made us thrifty;A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"

clattering,

Little hands clapping,—and little tongues chattering,

The sparrows were brighter than peacocks

here,

And their dogs outran our fallow deer;

is scattering,

Out came the children running!

All the little boys and girls,

With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,

And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music, with shouting and laughter.

The mayor was dumb, and the council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood,

Unable to move a step, or cry

To the children merrily skipping by,—
And could only follow with the eye
That joyous crowd at the piper's back.
But how the mayor was on the rack,
And the wretched council's bosoms beat,
As the piper turned from the High Street,
To where the Weser rolled its waters,
Right in the way of their sons and daugh-
ters!

However, he turned from south to west, And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,

And after him the children pressed;
Great was the joy in every breast.
"He never can cross that mighty top!
He's forced to let the piping drop,
And we shall see our children stop!"
When, lo, as they reached the mountain's
side,

A wondrous portal opened wide,
As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;
And the piper advanced and the children
followed;

And when all were in to the very last,
The door in the mountain side shut fast!
Did I say all? No; one was lame,
And could not dance the whole of the way;
And in after years if you would blame
His sadness, he was used to say,
"It's dull in our town since my playmates
left;

I can't forget that I'm bereft
Of all the pleasant sights they see,
Which the piper also promised me:

And horses were born with eagles' wings.
And just as I became assured

My lame foot would be speedily cured,
The music stopped, and I stood still,
And found myself outside the hill,
Left alone against my will,

To go now limping as before,
And never hear of that country more!"

Alas, alas for Hamelin!

There came into many a burgher's pate A text which says that heaven's gate Opes to the rich at as easy rate As the needle's eye takes a camel in! The mayor sent east, west, north, and south,

To offer the piper by word of mouth,

Wherever it was men's lot to find him, Silver and gold to his heart's content, If he'd only return the way he went,

And bring the children behind him. But soon they saw 'twas a lost endeavour, For piper and dancers were gone for ever. And the better in memory to fix

The place of the children's last retreat, They called it the Pied Piper's Street; Where any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labour; Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern

To shock with mirth a street so solemn : But opposite the place of the cavern

They wrote the story on a column,
And on the great church window painted
The same, to make the world acquainted
How their children were stolen away;
And there it stands to this very day.
And I must not omit to say
That in Transylvania there's a tribe
Of alien people, that ascribe
The outlandish ways and dress,
On which their neighbours lay such stress,
To their fathers and mothers having risen
Out of some subterranean prison
Into which they were trepanned,

Long ago, in a mighty band,
Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land;
But how, or why, they don't understand.
ROBERT BROWNING.

SHE stood upon the loftiest peak,
Amidst the dark-blue sky;
A bitter smile was on her cheek,
And a dark flash in her eye.

Till even the upper air was stirred, As cliffs and hollows rang.

"Hark! they bring music, my joyous child! What saith the trumpet to Suli's wild?

shines?

Hast thou caught the gleam of the con

queror's crest?

My babe! that I cradled on my breast! Wouldst thou spring from thy mother's arms with joy?——

That sight hath cost thee a father, boy!"

For in the rocky strait beneath
Lay Suliote sire and son;

They had heaped high the piles of death,
Before the pass was won.

men low

Thou wouldst not smile couldst thou see him now!"

But nearer came the clash of steel, And louder swelled the horn; And further yet the tambour's peal, Through the dark pass was borne,

"Hear'st thou the sounds of their savage mirth?

Boy, thou wert free when I gave thee birth!

hear

Of tempests, and the dangers of the deep,
And pause at times, and feel that we are safe,
Then listen to the perilous tale again,
And, with an eager and suspended soul,
Woo terror to delight us. But to hear
The roaring of the raging elements;
To know all human skill, all human
strength,

The mountain wave incumbent with its

weight

Of bursting waters o'er the reeling bark,-
This is indeed a dread and awful thing!
And he who hath endured the horror once
Of such an hour, doth never hear the storm
Howl round his home, but he remembers
it,

And thinks upon the suffering mariner.
SOUTHEY.