Mitz was not Mitz today. She was the Pied Piper of Hamelin! She had started off for a walk through the town. With her was Frank, the long dog, and an equally long sausage. She had asked her mother's permission to go.
Mrs. Toymaker had said, "Yes, you may go. But be sure to come home early."
Fritz stayed with his father, helping him to paint some toys and to repair others. They were getting ready for a fair in Hanover, a city not far away.
So Mitzi wandered off alone—Mitz, Frank, and the sausage! They passed through an old gateway into Hamelin. Whata storybook town it was! Every crooked house, every narrow street reminded Mitzi of the Pied Piper legend.
THE RAT-CATCHER'S HOUSE—HAMELINTHE RAT-CATCHER'S HOUSE—HAMELIN
She could almost see the funny, tall man playing on his pipes. She could imagine the rats scampering after him. She could hear the voices of the children as they followed his music. For, when the Piper had charmed the terrible rats out of Hamelin, the people refused to pay him what they had promised. So the tall stranger piped the children away, in order to punish the ungrateful villagers.
Robert Browning has written a poem about it.
Hamelin is a quiet little town. Mitzi came upon an old fountain named after the rat catcher. She saw an inn called the Rat Jug. Altogether it was too magical and story-like to be true. So Mitzi became the Pied Piper.
She began to lift her feet up high. Shestraightened out her plump little shoulders. Then she raised the sausage to her lips. But she did not eat it. The sausage became her pipe. Marching along with Frank at her heels, she piped upon her sausage and lived the old story. A few people looked at her and smiled.
Through a narrow lane she went. It was the same lane through which the Piper had led the children. Even today it is unlawful to play a pipe in this lane. But Mitzi's pipe could only be heard by Mitzi herself. She followed the pathway out of town and upon a country road.
The lines of the poem came to her mind:
"And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,And after him the children pressed."
"And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,And after him the children pressed."
She led her make-believe children up the mountain side—a long line of children, but really, only a long dog! They reached a cave in the hillside. The sun beat downupon them and the little dog's tongue swept the ground. This was not strange, since Frank was so close to the ground, anyway.
BEGAN TO EAT HER PIPEBEGAN TO EAT HER PIPE
Mitzi sat down upon a rock and began to eat her pipe. She was still in a land of other things. She could still see the mass of children flocking after the sweet music. She could hear their laughter as they tumbled into the cave.
And then it happened! Real music! It was coming closer. A tall figure appeared over the hill.
"His queer long coat from heel to headWas half of yellow and half of red,And he himself was tall and thin,With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin."
"His queer long coat from heel to headWas half of yellow and half of red,And he himself was tall and thin,With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin."
He stood before Mitzi and stopped playing on his pipe.
He said, "Why are you not in the cave, Mitzi? Go into the cave with the other children."
"I must go home to Mother and Father and Fritz," said Mitzi. "It grows late. See! The sun is sinking."
Indeed, it had become darker, and there was a chill in the air.
"Go into the cave, Mitzi," repeated the tall stranger quietly.
Then he began to play the sweetest music that Mitzi had ever heard. He walked into the cave, prancing as he walked. Mitzi got up. She wanted to run home, but she could not. She could only follow the Piper into the cave.
Now, at the toy maker's wagon the family began to worry. It was almost dark, and Mitzi had not come home.
"I will go and find her," said Fritz.
Mrs. Toymaker decided to go along with Fritz.
Meanwhile, Mitzi was inside the cave. There she sat with many wide-eyed children. She wanted to go home. But the Piper was playing and making her happy. She felt all snuggly and contented.
Suddenly she thought of Fritz. Oh, shemust go! She and Fritz had much to do. She could not stay here any longer. In the morning they were going to leave Hamelin. If she did not return to the wagon, they would go on without her.
"Let me out! Let me out!" cried Mitzi. "I must go to Fritz. Let me out!"
The Piper tried to hold her. She struggled. She kicked. She screamed.
"Stop! Stop! You are hurting me," said the Piper.
"I mean to hurt you!" she cried. "I want to go. I want Fritz."
"Then wake up, you silly," said the Piper. "For I am Fritz!"
She stopped kicking and looked. Yes, the Piper had the face of Fritz. He was Fritz! She rubbed her eyes. How could Fritz be a Pied Piper? Where did he get the cloak? She rubbed her eyes again. This time, when she looked, the Piper was not there any more, but only Fritz and her mother, laughing at her.
"Come home, you little sleepyhead," said Mrs. Toymaker, putting her arm about her little daughter.
On the way home Mitzi could not speak. And when Mitzi could not speak, there was something quite wrong or strange or exciting. This time it was something exciting. For her dream had given her a wonderful idea.
The family were wandering through the Harz (Härts) Mountains. Mitz and Fritz had never before seen so many trees nor heard such lovely bird songs. Mrs. Toymaker told them about the famous canary birds raised in the Harz Mountains.
"They are considered the finest singers in the world," she said.
The children loved to pass through tiny villages and see the quaint costumes of the peasants. In large cities the people do not wear costumes. But in mountain hamlets they often wear the dress of their ancestors.
Mitzi was much interested in costumes just now. For Mitzi was making one. She had decided to dress her brother as the PiedPiper. She was collecting every bit of red and yellow goods she could find. She was sewing, sewing, sewing as they drove along. Some of her red scraps were pink, it must be admitted. Some of her yellow scraps were white. But this did not bother Mitzi.
She was making a Pied Piper cloak for Fritz. She picked up bits of cloth along the way and washed them carefully. Shebegged and obtained all the rags her mother had. At the tiny windows of their wagon hung yellow curtains. Mitzi longed to use them for her precious cloak.
But when she asked for them, Mrs. Toymaker said, "If you will not tell me what you are doing, surely I cannot let you have them."
But Mitzi would not tell. It was to be a secret between Fritz and herself. When they reached the next large town, Fritz was to put on the cloak. He was to play his violin dressed as the Pied Piper. Mitzi planned to bring Mr. Toymaker to the scene of the concert. She hoped to show him at last that Fritz's music could please people and make them throw money.
Mr. Toymaker was silent and sad. He wondered what would happen to them all if his business did not improve. A gypsy life was not very pleasant, after all. A cosy home was better for a German family.
In September there was to be an important fair in the city of Leipzig (Līp´sĭk). Mr. Toymaker determined to be there. But until then they would be obliged to wander.
One day they approached the town of Ströbeck.
"Ah," said Mr. Toymaker, "we are in time for the great chess festival. People who are interested in chess come to this festival from far and near. Let us stop."
Mitzi, who was busily sewing, looked up.
"What is chess?" she asked. "Is it like cheese? Is it good to eat?"
Mrs. Toymaker laughed, "No, no, little hungry one! It is a game played on a board like checkers. This town is the only one in the world where children learn chess in school."
"In school?" asked Fritz.
"Yes," said Mrs. Toymaker. "During certainmonths each child goes to school with his chessboard. Children learn the old game just as you learn arithmetic."
"I think I would like that better than arithmetic," said Fritz.
"But it is a difficult game," said Mrs. Toymaker.
They made their camp near the peaceful town of Ströbeck. They noticed some peasant girls tending geese in a field.
"See, Mother," said Mitzi. "They play chess while they watch the geese."
"During the World War," said Mrs. Toymaker, "the Ströbeck money was printed with colored chessboards and chessmen upon it."
Later, the family made their way to the public square. The children enjoyed the parade of strangely dressed people. There were kings, queens, bishops and knights marching along. They represented the chessmen with which the game is played.The whole town was in a very gay mood.
MITZ LOOKED CROOKEDMITZ LOOKED CROOKED
Mr. Toymaker sold enough toys to cheer him somewhat. After supper they sat outside their wagon, and Mrs. Toymaker told them all she knew about this strange place.
"Chess is an ancient game," she said. "Ströbeck has been playing it for many years. Children begin to learn it when they are still babies. There once lived a boy of seven who became a champion. He even beat the village schoolmaster."
Fritz liked to hear these stories. He listened eagerly. But Mitz had only one thought these days. That thought was the costume for Fritz.
She had her eye upon the yellow curtains of the wagon. How fine they would be for her purpose! The family traveled further, and all the time Mitzi sewed. Slowly the costume grew, but too slowly for Mitzi.
One day when Mrs. Toymaker returned from the market place, she thought surely her eyes were playing her tricks. The windows of their wagon looked crooked. Then out came Mitzi. And what had happened to Mitzi? She looked crooked, too!
"Mitz, what have you done to the curtains?" asked Mrs. Toymaker.
Before Mitzi could reply, Mrs. Toymaker understood why Mitzi looked crooked. Her little red skirt was hanging in a strange, uneven way. Mrs. Toymaker inspected the curtains.
"Mitzi!" she said sternly. "You have cut pieces off the top of the curtains and tried to sew them together again."
Mitzi said nothing, but her face was flushed.
"Oh, Mitz!" continued Mrs. Toymaker. "You have cut pieces off your red skirt and tried to sew it together, too. Now it is hanging all wrong. You naughty little girl!"
Fritz was out gathering wood for the fire. Mitzi had worked alone and quickly.
"I do not know what you are up to, Mitzi," said her mother. "But you must be punished for this."
So for three days Mitzi was made to stay in the wagon alone. She could not go with the family to market. She had to eat her meals alone. She had to eat black bread and drink water like a prisoner. This was very hard for sausage-loving Mitz. She was in disgrace.
However, she bore her punishment like a man. She knew that she had done wrong. She helped her mother to arrange the curtains and to fix her skirt. She said nothing. But all the time she knew that soon the brightly colored little cloak would be finished.
"Our great chance will come in Leipzig," said Mitzi.
She was sitting on the steps of their wagon, sewing. Fritz sat beside her. He held an open book in his hands.
The Toymakers had made their camp outside of Eisenach (Ī´zĕn-äk). Mr. and Mrs. Toymaker had gone to town, leaving Mitz and Fritz with the wagon. Mitzi wanted to finish that costume before they arrived in Leipzig. Fritz was reading about Johann Sebastian Bach (Bäk), who was born in Eisenach.
"Bach came from a family of musicians," read Fritz. "The name 'Bach' means 'brook.' Beethoven once said, 'He is not a brook but an ocean!'"
"Come," interrupted Mitzi. "Try on the cloak. I am afraid I have made it too large."
"No," said Fritz, as he tried it on. "It fits me perfectly. How pretty it is, and how clever is my Mitz!"
Mitzi waggled her head proudly.
She said, "Many people will be in Leipzigfor the fair. When you give your concert, I'll fetch Father and bring him to where you are playing. Oh, how surprised and pleased he'll be!"
Fritz smiled. Then he went on reading from his book while Mitzi sewed.
"'When Bach was a boy,'" read Fritz, "'his father died and he lived with his brother Christoph. One day Christoph brought home a book full of beautiful music. The little boy longed to play it. But Christoph was jealous of Sebastian's talent. He refused to let him have the music book and locked it up.
"'Poor Sebastian wanted very much to play that music. So every night he got up and stole downstairs into the music room. He pulled the book out from between the bars of the bookcase. He sat in the light of the moon and copied the notes.
"'At last, after many weeks, he had copied the whole volume. He went to sleepwith his work under his pillow. He was very happy. But next day a terrible thing occurred. While Sebastian was playing the music on the harpsichord, his brother Christoph came in. When Christoph saw what the boy had done, he took away Sebastian's precious copy book.'"
"And what happened then?" asked Mitzi.
She was interested in this poor little fellowwho had longed so much for music. She was very angry with the brother.
Fritz read on: "'Sebastian fell ill. He was so unhappy that he could not eat. Then, one day he discovered that he could play the beautiful music without notes. It was all written in his heart!'"
"Ah," said Mitzi. "That is good!"
"'But just as he was playing it,'" continued Fritz, "'in came his brother Christoph again—'"
"The goose!" sniffed Mitzi.
"'Christoph stood in the doorway listening,'" read Fritz. "'At first he was ready to stop the playing. But at last it dawned upon him that his little brother was truly a great artist.'"
"So he stopped being jealous?" asked Mitzi.
"Yes," said Fritz. He closed the book and sighed, adding, "It must have been terriblefor Sebastian when his brother took away the music he loved."
Mitzi sighed, too. Then she jumped up quickly, frightening Fritz so that he fell off the steps.
"But now I am hungry," said Mitzi. "Let us go and get some cheese!"
As the Toymaker family drove away from Eisenach, they passed below the Wartburg (Värt´bo͝ork) Castle. Mrs. Toymaker asked her husband to stop. She wanted the children to see this historic place. The castle stands high on a crag.
As they walked toward it, Mrs. Toymaker said, "It was here that Martin Luther translated the Bible from Latin into German so the German people could read it. There is a tale of how the Devil appeared before Luther, who threw an inkwell at the Devil's head. The spot where that inkwell hit the wall is still to be seen in the castle."
"Please tell us another story about the castle," said Fritz.
"St. Elizabeth was Countess of Wartburg," said Mrs. Toymaker. "She had a heartless husband, who did not want her to be kind to the poor and sick. Upon one occasion he met her going out of the castle carrying a basket.
"'Where are you going? And what have you in that basket?' he asked.
"Now, Elizabeth had loaves of bread in the basket. She was taking them to a poor old woman. But she was afraid of her husband's wrath.
"So she answered, 'I have only roses in the basket.'
"The Count, her husband, looked into the basket to be sure. And, behold, the Countess had spoken truthfully. The loaves of bread had been turned into roses!"
Had Mrs. Toymaker and the children gone into the castle, they would have seen pictures of this story drawn upon the walls. But they did not go inside. They went back to their wagon and proceeded on their way.
"I hope that my friend, Mr. Krauss, will be in Leipzig," said Mr. Toymaker. "Mr. Krauss is a bookseller. He will surely help me. He may even start a toy shop for me in Leipzig. I hope I shall find Mr. Krauss!"
However, before they reached Leipzig, they stopped in Weimar (Vī´mär), the "poet city."
Weimar is where Goethe (Gȗ´tẽ), Germany's greatest poet, once lived. School children were taught to salute the poet Goethe, when they passed him on the street. Today children are still taken to Weimar by their teachers and told about Goethe's life.
Long ago, a little boy was brought to Weimar to visit at the old poet's home. This little boy was about the same age as Fritz and also loved music. Felix Mendelssohn (Mĕn´dĕl-sōn) was his name. Goethe met young Mendelssohn in the garden and led him into the house and to the piano.
He said, "Now, make a little noise for me."
Felix played so beautifully that Goethe said, "You have given me great pleasure. What would you like me to do for you?"
Felix answered, "I should like you to kiss me."
Mitz and Fritz had heard many stories about Felix Mendelssohn. He was their mother's favorite composer.
She had told them how this wonderful boy had written music when he was only a baby. She had told them about the way Felix used to lead a big orchestra. He had been so small that he had had to stand upon a chair.
But Mrs. Toymaker did not know that her own little boy had a gift, too. Sometimes she wondered, of course. Still she agreed with Mr. Toymaker that very few people are born with genius. Only naughty little Mitz was sure because she loved Fritz so much. She loved him and made up her mind that everyone in the world was going to find out about his beautiful music.
As they left Weimar, Mitzi squeezed her brother's hand.
"We are on our way to Leipzig now," she said.
She thought of the costume safely tucked away and ready for Fritz to put on.
Mr. Toymaker was driving the horse, and Mrs. Toymaker sat beside him.
"We are on our way to Leipzig now," said Mr. Toymaker.
He thought of the famous fair to which they were going. He thought of his friend, Mr. Krauss, who would help him. But never once did he think of a concert that was to be given for him.
One of the great fairs of the year was now going on in Leipzig. The Toymakers drove by the railway station, the largest in Europe. Many people were hurrying in and out. They passed the church where Johann Sebastian Bach used to sing.
All manner of peddlers swarmed the streets. The children opened their eyes wide at sight of one man entirely covered by clocks. He was a clock peddler from the Black Forest. Traders from all over the country were in Leipzig with their wares. Buyers from every place were at the fair to buy.
"See, children," said Mrs. Toymaker. "There is a statue of Mendelssohn, the littleboy who used to lead an orchestra. When he grew up, he led his orchestra in that building."
Leipzig is a city of books. Everyone seems to be reading. They read even as they stroll along the streets.
Mr. Toymaker immediately set out to find his friend, Mr. Krauss, the bookseller. But he could not find his friend.
The first day at the market place was very dismal. Nobody paid any attention to Mr. Toymaker's wares. There were too many beautiful toys to be seen.
"It is the same here as it was in Nuremberg," said Mrs. Toymaker.
Her sweet face was sad. "Oh, what are we to do?" the poor lady was thinking.
But Mitzi knew what to do. Tomorrow she and Fritz intended to slip away from their booth in the market place. Today their father needed them there to help.
Mr. Toymaker had displayed his prettiest toys: brightly colored soldiers, flaxen-haired dolls, and animals with big, staring-eyes. Yet even children did not stop. At a shop across the square were dolls that talked and walked, engines that sped along tracks, airplanes that flew, and doll houses with electric lights in them and elevators and running water. Is it any wonder that Mr. Toymaker'scarved toys did not attract people?
"Run back to the wagon and make some coffee," said Mrs. Toymaker to Mitz and Fritz. "Father and I will stay here a little longer. When we get home we shall have supper."
"But there is nothing to eat in the wagon," said Mitzi.
Mrs. Toymaker looked at her husband. Mr. Toymaker turned to Mitzi.
"Obey your mother," he said. "Go home and make coffee. When we come, we shall bring food with us."
Mitz and Fritz and Frank went slowly back to the wagon.
"I do not understand how Father can bring food," said Mitzi. "There is certainly no money with which to buy it."
"Tomorrow there will be money," smiled Fritz.
"Yes," agreed Mitzi. "Because of your concert. And Father must be there to see."Suddenly she cried, "Oh, careful, you donkey! You are splashing in mud puddles. You are getting your feet all wet!"
But Fritz did not care. He was dreaming. He liked mud puddles because he was a boy. He liked dreams because he was an artist.
When they reached their wagon home, Mitzi put the coffee on the stove. Soon Mr.and Mrs. Toymaker arrived. Their arms were full of bundles.
"See what a nice supper we are to have," said Mrs. Toymaker.
She was smiling, but Mitzi noticed that there were tears in her blue eyes. Mitzi noticed something else besides the tears.
"Mother!" she cried. "Where is your pretty blue necklace?"
Mrs. Toymaker had always worn a string of sparkling blue beads. They were quite valuable and were her only piece of jewelry. She had loved them because Mr. Toymaker had given them to her before Mitz and Fritz were born.
Mrs. Toymaker did not answer Mitzi. She began to untie the bundles.
"See," she said. "Black bread and milk!"
"But, Mother," insisted Mitzi, "where is your necklace? Have you lost it?"
Mrs. Toymaker saw the terror in Mitzi's eyes. That necklace had seemed to the littlegirl the finest and prettiest in all the world. Her mother was not her mother without it.
Mrs. Toymaker did not know what to say. She drew Mitzi close and kissed her.
But Mr. Toymaker said, "Enough of this, Mitzi. Go and help prepare the supper. You are too curious!"
"But, Father—" began Mitzi.
"Very well, then," said Mr. Toymaker. "I shall tell you. We sold the necklace so that we could buy food. Now, are you satisfied?"
Mr. Toymaker's voice sounded cross. But his face looked very worried.
"Oh, the beautiful necklace!" cried Mitzi.
Mr. Toymaker untied a package.
"Oh, the beautiful cheese!" he sniffed.
He was trying to make the best of things. He was trying to be jolly—poor Mr. Toymaker!
"One cannot grieve about neck decorations," he said, "when the stomach cries out to be decorated!"
Mitzi decided to hold the concert in a park. The market square was too noisy and bustling. She wanted her brother's beautiful music to have a beautiful setting. The two children walked through Mendelssohn Street, Bach Street, Beethoven Street, and Mozart (Mō´tzärt) Street.
"Leipzig is a wonderful city," thought Fritz. "They have named their streets after their musicians."
What would Father think of that? There was no street named after a toy maker!
Bismarck Street was named for a great German leader. The strength and wisdom of Prince Otto von Bismarck helped Germany to become a powerful nation.
In the park many people strolled to and fro. Some were reading. The children came upon a silver pond with beautiful shady trees all about it.
"Now, Fritz," said Mitzi, "you must stand here beside the pond. See how peaceful it is. Your music will float across the water. It will sound like music from heaven."
Fritz put on the homemade Pied Piper cloak. Then he stood beside the pond and began to play. Several people stopped, among them a group of students with books under their arms.
"Is the young musician your brother?" asked one student of Mitzi.
"Yes," answered Mitzi. "And I am his sister."
The youths laughed and gave her a coin.
"Play some Mendelssohn, young one," they said to Fritz.
The boy obligingly played what they requested. The audience grew. Some threw coins and asked Fritz to play certain tunes. He could play nearly everything they called for. Mrs. Toymaker had been a good teacher. Besides, Fritz could play anything after he had heard it once.
Mitzi was very happy. She beamed at the crowd of listeners.
"Now," she thought, "is the time to fetch Father." She whispered to Fritz, "I am going for Father. I shall be back presently. Play until I come."
As Mitzi turned to leave, she bumped into a gentleman who carried a violin case under his arm. Mitzi did not know that this gentleman was an important music master. She hardly looked at him.
She said quickly, "Excuse me, please," and pushed her way out of the crowd. She must go for her father.
The music master stood quite still, listening.What was that he heard? What did he see? A little boy standing beside a pond, playing the violin—a little boy with a smiling face, playing the violin better than any of the music master's grown-up pupils. Who was this little boy? Where had he learned to play like that?
The music master drew closer to Fritz. He asked Fritz to play compositions by Bach and Mozart. He was astonished at how well Fritz played them.
In the meantime Mitzi hurried to her father's booth in the square.
"Father," she cried, "come! Come quickly! I have something to show you."
Mr. Toymaker jumped as if he had been shot.
"What do you mean by startling me like that?" he said to Mitzi. "You are like a young thunderbolt!"
Mitzi's cheeks were glowing. Her eyes danced.
"Fritz is playing—" she began eagerly.
But Mr. Toymaker cut her short. He was in a bad mood. He had sold no toys again today and he could not find his friend, Mr. Krauss. He was jealous, too, of the toyshop keepers who were selling their handsome wares. Now he spent his rage upon little Mitzi.
"Stop!" he cried. "Do not speak again of that boy's silly playing! Go and bring him to me now. You and he shall keep my booth for me. I am going once more to look for Mr. Krauss."
Mitzi's glowing cheeks turned pale. She pulled at her father's sleeve.
"No, no! You must come with me," she pleaded. "Please, Father, close up the booth just for a little while, until we return, and come—"
"Enough!" cried Mr. Toymaker. "Do you tell me what to do or do I tell you what to do? Now, go and fetch that lazy brother ofyours. Bring him back here to help you keep my booth for me."
When poor, weeping Mitzi returned to the park, the gentleman with the violin case was still there. He stood very close to Fritz. The boy was playing a minuet. A rather large crowd still remained. Mitzi waited untilFritz finished playing the minuet. Then she went up to him.
"Oh, Fritz," she said, "Father would not come with me. He wants us to go to the market place right away."
Fritz let his violin fall to his side. A look of disappointment passed over his face and covered the smile.
"Do not leave yet," said a voice. "Play some more."
It was the music master speaking. Mitzi wiped a tear with the corner of her apron and looked at the gentleman with the violin case. His expression was kind.
"We must go," she said to him. "But we shall be back again tomorrow."
Mitzi did not know just why she said that. Only quite suddenly she had determined that she would be back tomorrow.
Some one in the crowd called, "One more selection! Come, young one; play!"
A coin came tumbling at Fritz's feet.