The Home Book of Verse Volume I Part 45

The summer and autumn had been so wet, That in winter the corn was growing yet: 'Twas a piteous sight to see, all around, The grain lie rotting on the ground.

Every day the starving poor Crowded around Bishop Hatto's door; For he had a plentiful last-year's store, And all the neighborhood could tell His granaries were furnished well.

At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day To quiet the poor without delay; He bade them to his great barn repair, And they should have food for the winter there.

Rejoiced such tidings good to hear, The poor folk flocked from far and near; The great barn was full as it could hold Of women and children, and young and old.

Then, when he saw it could hold no more, Bishop Hatto he made fast the door; And, while for mercy on Christ they call, He set fire to the barn, and burnt them all.

"I' faith, 'tis an excellent bonfire!" quoth he; "And the country is greatly obliged to me For ridding it, in these times forlorn, Of rats that only consume the corn."

So then to his palace returned he, And he sat down to supper merrily, And he slept that night like an innocent man; But Bishop Hatto never slept again.

In the morning, as he entered the hall, Where his picture hung against the wall, A sweat like death all over him came, For the rats had eaten it out of the frame.

As he looked, there came a man from his farm,-- He had a countenance white with alarm: "My Lord, I opened your granaries this morn, And the rats had eaten all your corn."

Another came running presently, And he was pale as pale could be.

"Fly! my Lord Bishop, fly!" quoth he, "Ten thousand rats are coming this way,-- The Lord forgive you for yesterday!"

"I'll go to my tower in the Rhine," replied he; "'Tis the safest place in Germany,-- The walls are high, and the sh.o.r.es are steep, And the tide is strong, and the water deep."

Bishop Hatto fearfully hastened away, And he crossed the Rhine without delay, And reached his tower, and barred with care All the windows, and doors, and loop-holes there.

He laid him down and closed his eyes, But soon a scream made him arise; He started, and saw two eyes of flame On his pillow, from whence the screaming came.

He listened and looked,--it was only the cat; But the Bishop he grew more fearful for that, For she sat screaming, mad with fear, At the army of rats that were drawing near.

For they have swum over the river so deep, And they have climbed the sh.o.r.es so steep, And now by thousands up they crawl To the holes and the windows in the wall.

Down on his knees the Bishop fell, And faster and faster his beads did he tell, As louder and louder, drawing near, The saw of their teeth without he could hear.

And in at the windows, and in at the door, And through the walls by thousands they pour; And down from the ceiling and up through the floor, From the right and the left, from behind and before, From within and without, from above and below,-- And all at once to the Bishop they go.

They have whetted their teeth against the stones, And now they pick the Bishop's bones; They gnawed the flesh from every limb, For they were sent to do judgment on him!

Robert Southey [1774-1843]

THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN A Child's Story

I Hamelin Town's in Brunswick, By famous Hanover city; The river Weser, deep and wide, Washes its wall on the southern side; A pleasanter spot you never spied; But, when begins my ditty, Almost five hundred years ago, To see the townsfolk suffer so From vermin was a pity.

II Rats!

They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats.

III At last the people in a body To the Town Hall came flocking: "'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy; And as for our Corporation,--shocking To think we buy gowns lined with ermine For dolts that can't or won't determine What's best to rid us of our vermin!

You hope, because you're old and obese, To find in the furry civic robe ease?

Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking, To find the remedy we're lacking, Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!"

At this the Mayor and Corporation Quaked with a mighty consternation.

IV An hour they sat in council,-- At length the Mayor broke silence: "For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell; I wish I were a mile hence!

It's easy to bid one rack one's brain,-- I'm sure my poor head aches again, I've scratched it so, and all in vain.

Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!"

Just as he said this, what should hap At the chamber-door but a gentle tap?

"Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?"

(With the Corporation as he sat, Looking little though wondrous fat; Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister Than a too-long-opened oyster, Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous For a plate of turtle green and glutinous) "Only a sc.r.a.ping of shoes on the mat?

Anything like the sound of a rat Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"

V "Come in!" the Mayor cried, looking bigger: And in did come the strangest figure!

His queer long coat from heel to head Was half of yellow and half of red, And he himself was tall and thin, With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin, But lips where smiles went out and in; There was no guessing his kith and kin: And n.o.body could enough admire The tall man and his quaint attire.

Quoth one: "It's as my great-grandsire, Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone, Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"

VI He advanced to the council-table: And, "Please your honors," said he, I'm able, By means of a secret charm, to draw All creatures living beneath the sun, That creep or swim or fly or run, After me so as you never saw!

And I chiefly use my charm On creatures that do people harm, The mole and toad and newt and viper; And people call me the Pied Piper."

(And here they noticed round his neck A scarf of red and yellow stripe, To match with his coat of the self-same check, And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying As if impatient to be playing Upon this pipe, as low it dangled Over his vesture so old-fangled.) "Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am, In Tartary I freed the Cham, Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats; I eased in Asia the Nizam Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats; And as for what your brain bewilders,-- If I can rid your town of rats, Will you give me a thousand guilders?"

"One? fifty thousand!" was the exclamation Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

VII Into the street the Piper stepped, Smiling first a little smile, As if he knew what magic slept In his quiet pipe the while; Then, like a musical adept, 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, c.o.c.king tails and p.r.i.c.king 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 Caesar, Swam across and lived to carry (As he, the ma.n.u.script he cherished) To Rat-land home his commentary, Which was: "At the first shrill notes of the pipe, I heard a sound as of sc.r.a.ping 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 b.u.t.ter-casks; And it seemed as if a voice (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery Is breathed) called out, 'Oh 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, Already staved, like a great sun shone Glorious scarce an inch before me, Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!'-- I found the Weser rolling o'er me."

VIII You should have heard the Hamelin people Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple; "Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles!

Poke out the nests and block up the holes!

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!"

IX A thousand guilders! the Mayor looked blue; So did the Corporation too.

For council-dinners made rare havoc With Claret, Moselle, Via-de-Grave, Hock; And half the money would replenish Their cellar's biggest b.u.t.t with Rhenish.

To pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!

"Beside," 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.

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

X The Piper's face fell, and he cried, "No trifling! I can't wait! beside, I've promised to visit by dinner time Bagdat, and accept the prime Of the Head Cook's pottage, all he's rich in, For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen, Of a nest of scorpions no survivor: With him I proved no bargain-driver; With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!

And folks who put me in a pa.s.sion May find me pipe after another fashion."

XI "How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I brook Being worse treated than a Cook?

Insulted by a lazy ribald With idle pipe and vesture piebald?

You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, Blow your pipe there till you burst!"

XII Once more he stepped into the street; And to his lips again Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; And ere he blew three notes (such sweet Soft notes as yet musician's cunning Never gave the enraptured air) There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling; Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering; And, like fowls in a farm-yard 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.