The day before the toy maker and his family were to start on their journey, Mitz and Fritz went to the market place. They walked through the quaint old streets of Nuremberg where they had lived all their lives. Frank, the dog, followed at their heels.
They stood looking up at an ancient clock on an ancient church. Under the face of the clock sat the figure of Emperor Charles the Fifth.
When the clock struck twelve, a little door at the side opened. A row of toy knights came marching out, followed by seven electors. Each figure bowed stiffly to the Emperor as it sailed past. Then it disappearedinto a door at the opposite side of the clock.
Every day this performance took place. Every day Nuremberg children gathered below to watch it. Fritz sighed when it was over.
"That is the last time we shall see it," he said.
"We shall see other things," said Mitzi. "We are going to—to—oh, to every place that we have read about!"
"We shall see the homes of great musicians," said Fritz, whose face was now beaming.
The Germans like to remember their great men. Even the school children are often taken by their teachers on trips to the towns where poets and painters and musicians lived. It is no wonder, then, that Mitz and Fritz were happy and excited about what the next day was to bring.
As they turned to leave the market place, Mitzi suddenly caught sight of some peopleacross the street. They were walking very slowly and gazing about with the air of seeing things for the first time.
"Stay here and hold Frank," said Mitzi to her brother. "I am going over to see those strangers. I am going to ask to guide them through the church."
She crossed the street and approached the people. She felt certain that they must be Americans or English, for she had watched many like them. She decided to show how well she could speak English.
"Gute day," said Mitzi.
"Why, hello, little Gretchen!" said a jolly-looking man.
"I be Mitzi," said the little girl, with a short bow. "I will show you to the church."
The people laughed.
The jolly man said, "You wish to show us to the church? Very well. I think the church will be pleased to see us."
Mitzi took the travelers through thechurch. She talked a great deal, and sometimes they could not understand what she said. Nevertheless when they came out they gave her some coins. Mitzi put the coins in her pocket and bowed again.
"Danke (dän´kẽ). Danke," she said; which means "Thanks. Thanks."
The man said, "You are a good guide, and the church seemed very glad to meet us."
"Yes, ma'am," said Mitzi.
She was trying to use all the English words she knew. Then she remembered a sentence which an English boy had once taught her. He had been a very naughty boy. He had told her that it was a most polite and respectful thing to say.
So the little German girl lifted her round face to the stranger, smiled sweetly, and said, "You—are—a—silly—goose!"
Mitzi could not understand why there was a roar of laughter from her new friends. She turned and ran across the street to where Fritz and Frank were awaiting her.
"Come. We are going home to lunch now," she said to her brother.
She pulled the coins out of her pocket and showed them to Fritz. Then she pulled something else out of her pocket and began to eat. It was a bit of sausage.
They passed funny houses with picturespainted on them, and old shops full of wonderful toys and ornaments and gingerbread. They passed toy shops and sausage stands. There are a thousand different kinds of sausages in Germany.
Germany is the children's gingerbread country. Think of all the childish delights that have come out of Germany: Christmas trees, cuckoo clocks, Hansel and Gretel, Grimms' Fairy Tales, and the Pied Piper!
And toys! When a toy is marked "made in Germany," we know that it is very fine, because Germany is the toy center of the world.
In Switzerland you would climb the Alps and eat cheese. In Ireland you would kiss the Blarney Stone and eat stew. In Italy you would see the art galleries and eat spaghetti. In China you would visit the Great Wall and eat rice. But in Germany, especially if you are a child, you would go to the toy shops and eat gingerbread.
Did you ever dream of becoming so great that a whole town would exist in your memory? That is what happened in the case of Richard Wagner, the little boy who stood in a market square and listened to "The Huntsman's Chorus."
Mitz and Fritz and their parents arrived in Bayreuth (Bī´roit´) in time for the Wagner festival. People had come from all over the world to hear the great Wagner operas. They are performed in a beautiful theater built especially for that purpose.
During the festival, the whole town talks and thinks and remembers Richard Wagner. In every shop window are pictures of the composer. Even a newspaper is publishedwhich prints only matters concerning Richard Wagner.
Mitz and Fritz left their wagon home and began to wander through the woodland town. Fritz was so happy and excited that one would have thought it his own festival. He had read and heard much about Bayreuth.
Mitzi, too, was impressed. But this did not stop her from nibbling at a bar of chocolate and smearing her round face.
"What do all the blue and white banners mean?" asked Fritz.
"They are the colors of Bavaria," said Mitzi.
Just as we have our states, so has Germany hers. In each part of the country thepeople are different from those of other parts.
In the United States the southern people are different from the western cowboy. In Great Britain the Scotch are different from the Welsh. In Switzerland the Italian-Swiss are different from the French-Swiss.
In Germany the Bavarian is a jolly farmer The German who lives by the Rhine is fun-loving and cheerful. But the Prussian is strict and very serious.
Mr. Toymaker was a Prussian. So is the former Kaiser, who ruled Germany before the World War. Now the ex-Kaiser is living quietly in Holland, and Germany is a republic like our country.
But let us go back to Mitz and Fritz. It seems that I cannot resist telling you a few things about their country as we go along. However, I am sure Mitz and Fritz would not object to that. For all Germans want to learn, even while they play.
Mr. Toymaker tried to sell his toys in the crowded market place of Bayreuth. But he was not very successful. People were thinking only of the glorious music they had come to hear.
Visitors wandered about the town. They stood beside the grave of Wagner in the garden of his home. In this grave the musician is buried with his faithful dog.
It is here that we find Mitz and Fritz and Mrs. Toymaker. Frank lay at their feet.
"Father is so disappointed," said Mrs. Toymaker. "He has sold so few toys."
"Perhaps in the next town he will sell more," said Fritz. Then he took his mother's hand. "Please," he added wistfully, "tell us something about Richard Wagner."
Mrs. Toymaker was much like Fritz and not very much like Mr. Toymaker. Somehowshe forgot her worries about not selling toys when she thought of Wagner. So she smiled and told the children this story:
"When Richard was about fourteen he went to school in Dresden. But he soon became very homesick for his family, who were living in Prague (Präk). He had no money, so he and a schoolmate decided to walk to Prague.
"It was a long distance, and the boys grew very weary and hungry. At last Richard made up his mind to hail the first coach and to beg for money. The other boy was timid and hid in the bushes.
"Richard stood in the center of the road as a coach came along. He held up his hand and the coach stopped. But the poor boy's knees were shaking, and he could hardly speak."
Mitzi interrupted her mother. "Why not?" she asked. "I would have spoken. I would have said, 'Give me money. I am hungry.'"
"Yes," laughed Mrs. Toymaker. "I have no doubt of that. For you are always hungry and you can always talk! But, you see, Richard was different."
"A bit foolish, like Fritz," said Mitzi knowingly.
The mother paid no attention to this remark but went on with her story: "The people in the coach were kind and threw money to Richard. He and his friend had a good dinner and finally reached Prague. But they say that he never forgot this experience."
A light began to shine in Mitzi's eyes as her mother finished the tale. An idea had been born in her busy little head. That evening after supper she took Fritz by the hand.
"Come," she whispered. "I have something to tell you—something very exciting." She led him away from their wagon, out upon the moonlit road. "Fritz," she said, "I have thought of a way to help Father. Ithought of it after Mother told that story about Richard Wagner. Now, if Richard had been a boy musician like you, he might have played for people and—"
"Do you mean that he might have played on his trip to Prague?" asked Fritz.
"Yes," said Mitzi. "In every town. The people would have thrown him so much money that he could have bought all the bread and sausage and—"
Fritz laughed at Mitzi's wide eyes.
"Well, but what has that to do with our helping Father?" he asked.
"Don't you see?" she replied. "You shall play on the streets, and people will throw coins. Then, even if Father cannot sell toys, we shall still have money with which to buy food."
"Oh, Mitz!" said Fritz.
"Oh, whist!" cried Mitzi impatiently. "I am going to make you do it! You'll see how easy it will be."
"But Father will not let me do it," said Fritz. "He does not like my fiddling. He would punish me."
"We won't tell him," said Mitzi. "He only forbade you to play when he puts you to work. Other times, it is not wrong for you to do it. So, when Father is selling toys in the next market place, we'll run off. You shall play your violin, and pretty soon crowds of people will gather and—"
"Oh, Mi—" began Fritz.
"Oh, fiddlesticks!" snapped Mitzi. She took him firmly by the arm. "Come," she said. "It is all settled. It is a fine plan. So now let us find something to eat and then go to bed."
Mr. Toymaker heard of a fair to be held in Mainz (Mīnts). So he decided to go there at once, although it was some distance from Bayreuth.
On the journey the children were kept busy. Fritz had to help his father with many things. Mitzi had to help her mother. They found no time to try their plan. But they did not forget it.
Along the road they saw much of interest. They passed small hotels for young travelers hiking about the country. In different lands there are different sports. Spain has her bullfights. England has her cricket. Switzerland's high mountains are popular for snow and ice sports. The United States plays baseball. But Germany hikes.
All over the land, in the summer time and even in winter, one meets groups of walkers. Children walk with teachers. Older children walk alone. As they walk they sing. They admire their country and learn. They stop overnight in these little youth inns—hotels made especially for boys and girls.
"Some day I am going with a group," said Mitzi. "I am going on hiking trips."
"Not until you are a bachfisch (bäk´fish)," said Fritz.
In Germany a young girl is called a "bachfisch," which means "baked fish."
But not so long ago in Germany girls did not hike and swim and play tennis. But now it is different. Girls are interested in everything, just as they are in America.
The Toymaker family journeyed through Hanau (Hä´nou), home of the Grimm brothers. The children spoke of these two devoted men, who had always worked together. Some of their stories have become famous, as, for instance, "Hansel and Gretel" and "Tom Thumb."
The family moved on toward Frankfurt.
The five Rothschild brothers had lived in Frankfurt. They had become the richest men in Europe and were called "The Five Frankfurters." Mrs. Toymaker remembered that the great poet, Goethe, had been born there.
Mitzi hoped to eat her fill of sausages. Frankfurt is supposed to be the home of the "hot dog." But she had more important hopes than eating "hot dogs." She was going to carry out her plan for Fritz's concert when they reached Mainz.
"Come quickly, Fritz. Now, we can slip away!" said Mitzi.
They were in the market place of Mainz. Their father was sitting at a booth under a striped umbrella. He was selling a few toys, and he looked more cheerful than usual.
Mitzi led her brother down the street.
"Quickly, come! We shall stand here before this big church," she said.
They had stopped in front of a beautiful old cathedral. Near by stood the statue of a man holding a sheet of paper in his hands.
"That is the statue of Gutenberg (Go͞o´tĕn-bĕrk), the inventor of printing," said Mitzi.
Fritz could not help thinking, just then,of all the great men who have come out of Germany. There was this Gutenberg, born here in Mainz. There was Professor Einstein (Īn´stīn), the famous scientist, born in Ulm. There was—
"Fritz! Fritz!" His sister was stamping her foot and screaming until she was almost purple in the face. "Will you listen?" she cried. "What are you thinking of? Comenow! Stop dreaming and play your violin!"
Fritz had to laugh at her stern round face and her sharp command.
He saluted and said, "Yes, yes, General! I obey."
Then he took up his violin and began to play. Several people stopped to listen. They smiled but passed on. Mitzi stood on onefoot and then on the other. Frank lay at her feet, wondering why they did not go on to explore this strange new city. Fritz played and Mitz stood, and only a few people seemed to notice them. Among these was a gentleman who put his hand into his pocket.
"Catch!" he said to Mitzi, as he threw her a coin.
After some time, Fritz grew tired and Mitzi discouraged.
"Let us go and buy sausage with this coin," said Mitzi.
She was not altogether pleased with the way things had worked out. But, anyway, she wanted to surprise her father with the small bit they had been able to make.
They turned to leave, when all at once they heard a whining sound behind them. They looked around. Sitting upon the church steps was a beggar. He wore ragged clothes and was a very old man. He held out his hand to Mitz and Fritz.
CATHEDRAL AT MAINZCATHEDRAL AT MAINZ
He said, "I am a beggar and I am hungry. Will you give me your coin?"
He looked miserable. Mitzi felt sorry for him. But still she thought of her father's pleasure if she should return home with sausages.
She thought how she would say to her father, "It was Fritz's music that did it."
But Fritz was tugging at her sleeve.
"Give it to him," said the boy. "See! He is very old."
Mitzi put her hand into the pocket of herlittle apron and pulled out the precious coin. She looked at it lovingly, then she threw it to the old man.
"Come along, Fritz," she said.
The children turned away and left a happy beggar behind.
Mr. Toymaker felt almost jolly. He counted the money he had made and chuckled.
"At last our luck has changed," he said. "I have really sold some toys. Now, let us go on. Let us wander down the Rhine and stop at friendly fairs along the way."
Mitzi was not so pleased with her day.
"Still we shall not give up," she said to Fritz. "At the next large town you must give another concert. Only we shall take care this time that there are no beggars about!"
The family left Mainz and started along the shore of the most famous river in all the world. England has her river Thames(Tĕmz). France is proud of the Seine (Sān). Italy loves the Tiber. Russia sings of the Volga. In Austria it is the Danube. But the River Rhine is dear to Germany.
Castles on every hill have ancient legends. The Toymaker family gazed upon beautiful, vine-covered hillsides and villages where people live by the making of wine. The Rhine land is a wine land. Some of the best wines in the world come from here.
Mitz and Fritz thought of the stories of Siegfried (Sēg´frēd), that great hero of Wagner's operas, "Siegfried" and "The Twilight of the Gods." In the Rhine land Siegfried was born.
They thought of Charlemagne (Shär´lē̍-mān), that mighty conqueror, who lies sleeping in this land. They thought of dragons, of buried treasure, of brave heroes, of secret caves. The Rhine country is full of such thoughts.
Then they came to Bingen (Bĭnḡ´ĕn).
"The Mouse Tower!" cried Mitzi.
"Tell us the story, please, Mother!" said Fritz.
The children had heard this tale many times. But never before had they heard it told while they were looking at the old tower. It stood in the center of the river.
"Long ago," began Mrs. Toymaker, "there lived a cruel bishop. When the poor people were starving, he bought all the grain in the land.
He locked it up in his barn. The hungry villagers came to steal the grain. While they were in the barn, the bishop set fire to it.
"He said, 'These people deserve to die. They are like mice stealing from a granary.'
"But soon he was punished for his wickedness. One day thousands of mice broke into his tower and ate him up. That is why this is called the Mouse Tower."
Said Fritz, "He deserved to be eaten!"
Said Mitz, "I wonder how a bishop would taste to a rat."
"Mitz! Mitz!" laughed Mrs. Toymaker. "What strange ideas you have!"
Yet Mrs. Toymaker could hardly guess what strange things Mitzi was really going to do. Even Fritz did not know. Indeed, Mitzi herself was unaware of all that lay before her.
The Toymakers traveled along the Rhine.
THE ROCK OF THE LORELEITHE ROCK OF THE LORELEI
They passed the beautiful rock of the Lorelei and Mrs. Toymaker told Mitz and Fritz the famous legend of the beautiful maiden who sat upon the rock combing her golden hair. She sang and called to passing ships, and her voice was so beautiful that fishermen and sailors tried to reach the rock but they were always dashed to pieces on the reefs at the foot of the cliffs.
Mitz and Fritz loved this story.
The Toymakers stopped at one or two small towns. But Mr. Toymaker sold notoys. Again he grew worried. They passed happy people bathing in the river. Gay bath-houses dot the shores. Bathers bake themselves in the sun and rest beside the river.
"There is never any rest for me," sighed poor Mr. Toymaker.
"Perhaps, when we reach Coblenz (kō´blĕnts), you will sell more toys," said his wife.
"When we reach Coblenz," murmured Mitzi to Fritz, "you are to give another concert."
When they arrived in Coblenz, Mitzi said, "Come along, now, Fritz. This is our chance."
A short time later, Mr. Toymaker looked about and could not find Fritz and Mitzi.
"Where are the children?" he asked. "They are always running off."
"They have gone to the town," answered Mrs. Toymaker.
"I did not tell them they could go," saidMr. Toymaker. "What are they up to? They should stay and help me with my work."
"But they finished their work," said Mrs. Toymaker.
Mr. Toymaker grunted. He would surely have grunted more angrily had he seen what his children were doing at that moment. Fritz was standing in a far corner of the market square, playing his violin. Mitzi was standing by his side.
Coblenz is a city of manufacturing and similar industries. The fortress across the river was occupied by American soldiers after the World War. Sometimes in a quiet city people are not much hurried. Therefore they give heed to pleasant sounds. Coblenz has been a quiet city since the soldiers left.
Mitzi eagerly watched the passers-by. She smiled as Fritz played. The little dog Frank wagged his tail happily. Then he fell asleep on the sidewalk.
Soon a large number of people gathered. They stood listening.
One said to another, "The boy plays well. He is a real musician."
Several coins were thrown.
"I am right!" thought Mitzi. Her heart pounded with delight. "People will pay to hear my Fritz's music. They will!"
When the day was almost done, Fritz stopped playing. Mitzi showed him the money they had made.
"See," she said. "Enough coins to make even Father smile! Come. Let us give them to Father. How pleased he will be!"
"Now, perhaps, he will like my playing," said Fritz.
They hurried toward their wagon, where they found Mr. Toymaker very much annoyed.
"Why did you run away and not tell me where you were going?" he demanded.
Mitzi held out the money.
"See, Father," she said. "See what Fritz's music has brought!"
Mr. Toymaker looked at the coins in Mitzi's hand. Then he looked at the happy face of the little girl. And then he turned to Fritz, who was smiling at him.
"You are a very naughty boy!" he said.
The smile left Fritz's face. Mitzi caught her father's arm.
"But, Father," she said. "You don't understand. Fritz did nothing wrong. Heonly played his violin when he had finished the work you gave him. He played in the town, and people threw coins because they liked his music."
"What?" cried Mr. Toymaker. "Do you tell me that people paid to hear a boyscratching upon a fiddle? It is not true! Fritz has stolen this money!"
"Father!" gasped Fritz.
His face had gone white. Mitzi's eyes became two round bowls.
"Oh, Father, no!" she cried. "Fritz would never steal, and neither would I!"
"Do not say another word," commanded Mr. Toymaker. "You cannot make me believe this story. A boy's fiddling cannotmore money than I can make in a week selling toys. No, you have stolen. And I will not have it."
Mrs. Toymaker tried to make him believe Mitz and Fritz. But Mr. Toymaker was very stubborn.
"They are naughty children," he said to his wife. "Mitzi is always doing things she should not do. It was she who put the boy up to it. They must be made to obey! Tonight they shall go to bed without any supper."
Fritz cried himself to sleep that night. Mitzi tried to comfort him. To be accused of stealing! That was worse than having to go to bed without supper.
"We'll show Father, Fritz," Mitzi said bravely. "You'll see."
Still her heart was heavy.
"He will never believe me," said Fritz. "If only he would let me play for him! And now he thinks that I am a thief!"
Poor, honest little Fritz!
"Please, Fritz, do not look so sad," pleaded Mitzi.
They had arrived near the town of Bonn (Bō̍n) on the Rhine. In the distance they could see the buildings of a large university.
Fritz had not smiled since their terrible experience in Coblenz. Now, however, Mitzi hoped to cheer him.
"See, Fritz," she said. "We are in the town of Beethoven (Bā´tō-vĕn)."
At the sound of this name Fritz's eyes brightened. Beethoven was one of the greatest musicians that ever lived.
"I have asked Father to let us wander through the streets," said Mitzi. "We may even go to the house where Beethoven was born. Come, Fritz."
The boy and girl started off together for the pretty little village.
Later, Mr. and Mrs. Toymaker set off for the market place to sell their wares.
"I do wish you would listen to Fritz's playing," said Mrs. Toymaker, as they walked along. "He has been so unhappy since that day you scolded him. Perhaps, after all, our son may be a real musician."
"Say no more about that," growled Mr. Toymaker. "I'll have no idle musicians in my family. Look at all the starving tune makers in the world! They cannot even support themselves. No! Music is foolish!"
"But," said Mrs. Toymaker, "you forget that Beethoven—"
"He was different!" snapped Mr. Toymaker. "We cannot all be geniuses!"
So what could poor Mrs. Toymaker say? Often the good lady had wondered why it was that her husband wanted Fritz to make toys. Surely the making of toys had not proved a happy trade for Mr. Toymaker! But it was very difficult to argue with him, so his wife did not try.
The children visited Beethoven's house. It is now a museum. In it are such relics as the musician's letters, his piano, and even his ear trumpets. For Beethoven became deaf. Imagine such a thing as a deaf composer! Yet this wonderful man composedsome of his most beautiful music even after he could not hear.
"I have read many things about Beethoven," said Fritz to Mitzi. "But the part I like to read about is when he was a boy."
Then Fritz told his sister some of the things he had read: "One night when Ludwig was asleep, his father came home and woke him up. He stood at this very gate andcalled, 'Up, up, Ludwig, and play!' His father kept him at the piano all night long. Next day Ludwig was so tired that he could not keep awake at school."
"Why did his father do that?" asked Mitzi indignantly.
"Because," answered Fritz, "he wanted Ludwig to be a great pianist and give concerts."
There is a statue of Beethoven in the main square of Bonn. In Germany a statue is called a "denkmal," which means a "think over." As Mitz and Fritz looked upon this "think over," they thought over many things.
"It seems strange," sighed Mitzi, "that Ludwig's father forced him to play, while your father forbids you to."
Fritz laughed.
"You silly!" he said. "I am not Ludwig van Beethoven."
Mitzi began to look like a fierce young lion.She really could look that way sometimes.
"No," she said, "but you are Fritz! And you can play the violin more beautifully than any other boy in the world."
"Oh, Mitz, what are you saying?" laughed her brother.
But Mitzi was firm.
"One day we shall see," she said.
Mr. Toymaker sold enough toys that day to buy dinner. Next day the family started off again along the Rhine.
Then, after many long days of traveling, the Toymakers at last reached the town of Hamelin. This is the scene of the Pied Piper tale. It is where something remarkable is supposed to have happened to children years and years ago. Hamelin is also the place where something really did happen to Mitzi.