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 :
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!

The Mayor sent east, west, north, and south

To offer the Piper by word of mouth,

Wherever it was man'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 for ever, 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 any one 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, that 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 ago in a mighty band,

K

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

So Willy, let you and me be wipers

Of scores out with all men, especially pipers;
And whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice

If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise.
-Robert Browning.

GREEDINESS PUNISHED.

It was the cloister Grabow, in the land of Usedom,
For years had God's free goodness to fill its larder come :
They might have been contented!

Along the shore came swimming, to give the folks good cheer, Who dwelt within the cloister, two fishes every year :

They might have been contented!

Two sturgeons- two great fat,ones; and then this law was set, That one of them should yearly be taken in a net :

They might have been contented!

The other swam away, then, until next year came round,
When, with a new companion, he punctually was found:
They might have been contented!

So then again, they caught one, and served him in the dish,
And regularly caught they, year in, year out, a fish :
They might have been contented!

The year, the time appointed two such noble fishes brought, The question was a hard one, which of them should be caught : They might have been contented!

They caught them both together-but every greedy wight
Grew sick from over-eating-it served the gluttons right;-
They might have been contented!

This was the least of sorrows

hear how the cup ran o'er !

Henceforward, to the cloister no fish came swimming more:

They might have been contented!

So long had God supplied them of his free grace alone,
That, now it is denied them, the fault is all their own :
They might have been contented!

THE TOY OF THE GIANT'S CHILD.

BURG NIEDECK is a mountain in Alsace, high and strong,
Where once a noble castle stood, the Giants held it long;
Its very ruins now are lost, its site is waste and lone,
And if ye seek for Giants there, they all are dead and gone.

The Giant's daughter once came forth the castle-gate before,
And played, with all a child's delight, beside her father's door;
Then sauntering down the precipice, the girl did gladly go,
To see, perchance, how matters went, in the little world below.

With few and easy steps she passed the mountain and the wood,
At length near Haslach, at the place where mankind dwelt, she

stood;

And many a town and village fair, and many a field so green,
Before her wondering eyes appeared, a strange and curious scene.

And as she gazed, in wonder lost, on all the scene around,
She saw a Peasant at her feet, a-tilling of the ground;
The little creature crawled about so slowly here and there,
And, lighted by the morning sun, his plough shone bright and fair.

"Oh, pretty plaything!" cried the child, "I'll take thee home

with me,"

Then with her infant hands she spread her kerchief on her knee, And cradling horse, and man, and plough, all gently on her arm, She bore them home, with cautious steps, afraid to do them harm!

She hastes with joyous steps and quick :- (we know what children

are),

And spying soon her father out, she shouted from afar,
"O father, dearest father, such a plaything I have found,
I never saw so fair a one on our own mountain ground."

Her father sat at table then, and drank his wine so mild,
And, smiling with a parent's smile, he asked the happy child,
"What struggling creature hast thou brought so carefully to me?
Thou leap'st for very joy, my girl; come, open, let us see?"

She opes her kerchief carefully, and gladly, you may deem,
And shows her eager sire the plough, the Peasant, and his team;
And when she'd placed before his sight the new found pretty toy,
She clasped her hands, and screamed aloud, and cried for very joy.

But her father looked quite seriously, and shaking slow his head, "What hast thou brought me home, my child? This is no toy," he said;

"Go, take it quickly back again, and put it down below;

The Peasant is no plaything, girl, how could 'st thou think him so?

"Go, go, without a sigh or sob, and do my will," he said, "For know, without the Peasant, girl, we none of us had bread; 'Tis from the Peasant's hardy stock the race of Giants are;

The Peasant is no plaything, child, — no, God forbid he were !"

- From the German of Chamisso.