Then the fear-chill gathered o'er me,
Like a shroud around me cast,
As I sank upon the snow-drift
Where the Shadow-hunter passed.

And the other trappers found me,
Before the break of day,

With my dark hair blanched and whitened
As the snow in which I lay.

But they spoke not as they raised me;

For they knew that in the night

I had seen the Shadow-hunter
And had withered in his blight.

Sancta Maria speed us!

The sun is falling low,

Before us lies the valley,

Of the Walker of the Snow!

CHARLES DAWSON SHANLY.

THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.

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..

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 cook's 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.

At last the people in a body

To the Town Hall came flocking:

""T is 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.

An hour they sate in counsel,

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.

O 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
Then a too-long-opened oyster,

Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous
For a plate of turtle, green and glutinous,)
"Only a scraping of shoes on the mat?
Anything like the sound of a rat

Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"

“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 nobody 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!"

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,

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