The Pied Piper: II. Into the Street the Piper Stepped

Into the street the Piper stepped,
Smiling first a little smile,
As if he knew what magic slept
In his quiet pipe the while
Then, like a musical adept,
To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,
Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled
And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
You heard as if an army muttered
And the muttering grew to a grumbling
And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling
And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,
Families by tens and dozens,
Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives
Followed the Piper for their lives.
From street to street he piped advancing,
And step for step they followed dancing,
Until they came to the river Weser
Wherein all plunged and perished!
You should have heard the Hamelin people
Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple
Go, cried the Mayor, and get long poles!
Poke out the nests and block up the holes!
Consult with carpenters and builders,
And leave in our town not even a trace
Of the rats! when suddenly up the face
Of the Piper perked in the market-place,
With a, First, if you please, my thousand
guilders!
A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue
So did the Corporation too.
To pay this sum to a wandering fellow
With a gipsy coat of red and yellow!
Beside, quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink,
We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,
And what's dead can't come to life, I think.
So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink
From the duty of giving you something for drink,
And a matter of money to put in your poke
But, as for the guilders, what we spoke
Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.
Beside, our losses have made us thrifty
A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!
The Piper's face fell, and he cried,
No trifling! I can't wait, beside!
Those folks who put me in a passion
May find me pipe to another fashion.
How? cried the Mayor,
You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,
Blow your pipe there till you burst!