through the thick stone walls, and ate him alive where he sat.
And now they pick the Bishop's bones;
They gnawed the flesh from every limb,
For they were sent to do judgment on him."
Oh, it's a lovely tale.
Then there is the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin, how first he piped the rats away, and afterwards, when the Mayor broke faith with him, drew all the children along with him, and went into the mountain. What a curious old legend that is! I wonder what it means, or has it a meaning at all? There seems something strange and deep lying hid beneath the rippling rhyme. It haunts me, that picture of the quaint, mysterious old piper, piping through Hamelin's narrow streets, and the children following with dancing feet and thoughtful, eager faces. The old folk try to stay them, but the children pay no heed. They hear the weird, witched music, and must follow. The games are left unfinished, and the playthings drop from their careless hands. They know not whither they are hastening. The mystic music calls to them, and they follow, heedless and unasking where. It stirs and vibrates in their hearts, and other sounds grow faint. So they wander through Pied Piper street away from Hamelin town.
I get thinking sometimes if the Pied Piper is really
