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 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.

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 scraping 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 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 tomb-
stone!"

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 stray

ing

As if impatient to be playing

Once more he stept 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.

XIII.

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
As if they were changed into blocks of wood.
Unable to move a step, or cry
To the children merrily skipping by-
And could only follow with the eye
That joyous crowd at the Piper's back.
But how the Mayor was on the rack,

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 every thing 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!"

Alas, alas for Hamelin!

XIV.

There came into many a burgher's pate A text which says, that Heaven's gate Opes to the rich at as easy rate As the needle's eye takes a camel in!

The Mayor sent East, West, North, and South,
To offer the Piper by word of mouth,

Wherever it was men'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 'twas 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 Street -
Where 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 subterranean prison
Into which they were trepanned
Long time ago, in a mighty band,

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

To George M—.

YES, I do love thee well, my child!
Albeit mine's a wandering mind;
But never, darling, hast thou smiled
Or breathed a wish that did not find
A ready echo in my heart.

What hours I've held thee on my knee, Thy little rosy lips apart!

Or, when asleep, I've gazed on thee, And with old tunes sung thee to rest, Hugging thee closely to my bosom ; For thee my very heart hath blest, My joy, my care, my blue-eyed blossom!

131

THOMAS MILLER.

A Visit from St. Nicholas.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with

care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And Mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains for a long winter's

nap

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the mat

ter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon, on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of mid-day to objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen !

On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Donder and Blitzen