Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering, And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley 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.

XIII

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,
-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 daughters!
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-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 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.

For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,
Joining the town and just at hand,
Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew
And flowers put forth a fairer hue,

And everything was strange and new;

The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,
And their dogs outran our fallow deer,
And honey-bees had lost their stings,
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!"

XIV

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 when they saw 't was a lost endeavor, And Piper and dancers were gone forever, They made a decree that lawyers never

Should think their records dated duly If, after the day of the month and year, These words did not as well appear, "And so long after what happened here On the Twenty-second of July, Thirteen hundred and seventy-six": And the better in memory to fix The place of the children's last retreat, They called it, the Pied Piper's StreetWhere anyone playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labor. 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 who ascribe

The outlandish ways and dress

On which their neighbors lay such stress,
To their fathers and mothers having risen

Out of some subterraneous prison
Into which they were trepanned°
Long time ago in a mighty band

Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,
But how or why, they don't understand.

-Robert Browning

Words: sprats-herrings; noddy-simpleton; Corporation-city council; obese fat; consternation-fear; guilder-a coin worth about forty cents in our money; adept-one skilled; commentary-a brief account; puncheon-a large cask; poke-bag, pocket; bate-take off; stiver a coin worth about two cents; ribald-rascal; justling— jostling; bereft - deprived; fallow-yellow; burgher- townsman; pate-head; hostelry-hotel, inn; Transylvania—part of AustriaHungary; subterraneous-underground; trepanned-trapped.

Questions: Why do we not need to know the exact location of places mentioned in a story like this? Of whom does the Pied Piper remind you in the story of "The Argonauts"? What remarkable things were done by that minstrel? Why does Browning save one rat and one child from the Piper? As you read the lame child's story, are you glad or sorry that he was saved? Why? Have you heard the saying that one must always pay the piper finally? Dramatize the conversations between the Mayor and the Piper.

THREE GATES OF GOLD

F YOU are tempted to reveal

IF

A tale some one to you has told
About another, make it pass,

Before you speak, three gates of gold;
These narrow gates: First, "Is it true?"
Then: "Is it needful?" In your mind.
Give truthful answer, and the next

Is last and closest, "Is it kind?"
And, if to reach your lips at last,

It passes through these gateways three,
Then you may tell the tale, nor fear
What the result of speech may be.

-Author Unknown

A

trap.

THE FARMER AND THE FOX

FARMER, whose poultry-yard had suffered severely from the foxes, succeeded at last in catching one in a

"Ah, you rascal!" said he, as he saw him struggling, "I'll teach you to steal my fat geese!-you shall hang on the tree yonder, and your brothers shall see what comes of thieving!"

The farmer was twisting a halter to do what he threatened, when the fox, whose tongue had helped him in hard pinches before, thought there could be no harm in trying whether it might not do him one more good turn.

"You will hang me," he said, "to frighten my brother foxes. On the word of a fox, they won't care a rabbit-skin for it; they'll come and look at me, but you may depend upon it they will dine at your expense before they go home again!"

"Then I shall hang you for yourself, as a rogue and a rascal," said the farmer.

"I am only what nature, or whatever you call the thing, chose to make me," the fox answered. "I didn't make my

self."

"You stole my geese, said the man.

"Why did nature make me like geese, then?" said the fox. "Live and let live; give me my share, and I won't touch yours; but you keep them all to yourself.'

"I don't understand your fine talk," answered the farmer; "but I know that you are a thief, and that you deserve to be hanged."

"His head is too thick to let me catch him so; I wonder if his heart is any softer," thought the fox. "You are taking away the life of a fellow-creature," he said; "that's a responsibility, it is a curious thing, that life, and who knows what comes after it? You say I am a rogue. I say I am not; but at any rate I ought not to be hanged,-for if I am not, I don't deserve it; and if I am, you should give me time to repent!"