{"id":6733,"date":"2013-07-15T20:33:36","date_gmt":"2013-07-16T00:33:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/?p=6733"},"modified":"2020-03-26T11:11:55","modified_gmt":"2020-03-26T15:11:55","slug":"the-pied-piper","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/archives\/6733","title":{"rendered":"“The Pied Piper”"},"content":{"rendered":"

From the Independent Fifth Reader, a poem by Robert Browning, of the 16th century story of a piper hired by a town in Germany to lure rats away. When they refuse to pay for his services, the piper lures the town’s children away as well.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

<\/p>\n

     
\nI<\/span>n Pioneer Girl<\/em>, of the pieces read or recited by the Ingalls girls from the Independent Fifth Reader<\/em> was said to be “The Pied Piper,” a poem by Robert Browning, found on pages 270-280 of the Reader<\/em>. A copy of the Fifth Reader<\/em> can be found online HERE<\/a>. <\/p>\n

Robert Browning wrote the poem in 1842 for nine-year-old William Macready, a child often kept in the house due to illness; he wrote it as an amusement and as a piece Willie could illustrate. Browning’s version was said to have been inspired by Restitution of Decayed Intelligence, published in 1605, although the story of the Pied Piper dates at least as early as the fourteenth century.<\/p>\n

The poem is transcribed as it appeared in the Independent Fifth Reader. Illustrations are those used in the original. You can see a beautifully illustrated 1910 version HERE<\/a>. A volume illustrated by Kate Greenaway and published in 1889 – during the Little House years — can be seen HERE<\/a>.<\/p>\n

THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN<\/strong><\/p>\n


\nFirst Part.
\n1.
\nHamelin Town’s in Brunswick,
\nBy famous Hanover city;
\nThe river Weser, deep and wide,
\nWashes its wall on the southern side;
\nA pleasanter spot you never spied;
\nBut, when begins my ditty,
\nAlmost five hundred years ago,
\nTo see the townsfolk suffer so
\nFrom vermin, was a pity.<\/p>\n

2.
\nRats!
\nThey fought the dogs, and killed the cats,
\nAnd bit the babies in the cradles,
\nAnd ate the cheeses out of the vats,
\nAnd licked the soup from the cooks’ own ladles,
\nSplit open the kegs of salted sprats,
\nMade nests inside men’s Sunday hats,
\nAnd even spoiled the women’s chats,
\nBy drowning their speaking
\nWith shrieking and squeaking
\nIn fifty different sharps and flats.<\/p>\n

3.
\nAt last the people in a body
\nTo the Town Hall came flocking:
\n“Tis clear,” cried they, “our Mayor’s a noddy;
\nAnd as for our Corporation–shocking
\nTo think we buy gowns lined with ermine
\nFor dolts that can’t or won’t determine
\nWhat’s best to rid us of our vermin!
\nYou hope, because you’re old and obese,
\nTo find in the furry civic robe ease?
\nRouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking
\nTo find the remedy we’re lacking,
\nOr, sure as fate, we’ll send you packing!”
\nAt this the Mayor and Corporation
\nQuaked with a mighty consternation.<\/p>\n

4.
\nAn hour they sat in council,
\nAt length the Mayor broke silence:
\n“For a guilder I’d my ermine gown sell;
\nI wish I were a mile hence!
\nIt’s easy to bid one rack one’s brain —
\nI’m sure my poor head aches again,
\nI’ve scratched it so, and all in vain;–
\nOh for a trap, a trap, a trap!”<\/p>\n

5.
\nJust as he said this, what should hap
\nAt the chamber door but a gentle tap?
\n“Bless us,” cried the Mayor, “what’s that?”
\n(With the Corporation as he sat,
\nLooking little though wondrous fat;
\nNor brighter was his eye, nor moister
\nThan a too-long-opened oyster,
\nSave when at noon his paunch grew mutinous
\nFor a plate of turtle, green and glutinous)–
\n“Only a scraping of shoes on the mat?
\nAnything like the sound of a rat
\nMakes my heart go pit-a-pat!”<\/p>\n

6.
\n“Come in!” — the Mayor cried, looking bigger:
\nAnd in did come the strangest figure!
\nHis queer long coat from heel to head
\nWas half of yellow and half of red,
\nAnd he himself was tall and thin,
\nWith sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,
\nAnd light loose hair, yet swarthy skin,
\nNo tuft on cheek nor beard on chin,
\nBut lips where smile went out and in–
\nThere was no guessing his kith and kin!
\nAnd nobody could enough admire
\nThe tall man and his quaint attire.
\nQuoth one, “It’s as my great-grandsire,
\n“Starting up at the Trump of Doom’s tone,
\n“Had walked this way from his painted tomb-stone!”<\/p>\n

7.
\nHe advanced to the council-table,
\nAnd, “Please your honors,” said he, “I’m able,
\nBy means of a secret charm, to draw
\nAll creatures living beneath the sun,
\nThat creep or swim or fly or run,
\nAfter me so as you never saw!
\nAnd I chiefly use my charm
\nOn creatures that do people harm,–
\nThe mole, and toad, and newt, and viper;
\n“And people call me the Pied Piper.” <\/p>\n

8.
\n(And here they noticed round his neck
\nA scarf of red and yellow stripe,
\nTo match with his coat of the selfsame check;
\nAnd at the scarf’s end hung a pipe;
\nAnd his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying
\nAs if impatient to be playing
\nUpon this pipe, as low it dangled
\nOver his vesture so old-fangled.)<\/p>\n

9.
\n“Yet,” said he, “poor piper as I am,
\nIn Tartary I freed the Cham,
\nLast June, from his huge swarms of gnats,
\nI eased in Asia the Nizam
\nOf a monstrous brood of vampire-bats:
\nAnd as for what your brain bewilders–
\nIf I can rid your town of rats,
\nWill you give me a thousand guilders?
\n“One!–fifty thousand!” –was the exclamation
\nOf the astonished Mayor and Corporation.<\/p>\n

10.
\nInto the street the Piper stepped,
\nSmiling first a little smile,
\nAs if he knew what magic slept
\nIn his quiet pipe the while;
\nThen, like a musical adept,
\nTo blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
\nAnd green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,
\nLike a candle flame where salt is sprinkled;
\nAnd ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
\nYou heard as if an army muttered;
\nAnd the muttering grew to a grumbling;
\nAnd the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;
\nAnd out of the houses the rats came tumbling. <\/p>\n

11.
\nGreat rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
\nBrown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,
\nGrave old plodders, gay young friskers,
\nFathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
\nCocking tails and pricking whiskers,
\nFamilies by tens and dozens,
\nBrothers, sisters, husbands, wives–
\nFollowed the Piper for their lives.
\nFrom street to street he piped advancing,
\nAnd step for step they followed dancing,
\nUntil they came to the river Weser
\nWherein all plunged and perished–
\n— Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar,
\nSwam across and lived to carry
\n(As the manuscript he cherished),
\nTo Rat-land home his commentary:
\nWhich was, <\/p>\n

12.
\n“At the first shrill notes of the pipe,
\nI heard a sound as of scraping tripe,
\nAnd putting apples, wondrous ripe,
\nInto a cider-press’s gripe–
\nAnd a moving away of pickle-tub boards,
\nAnd a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards,
\nAnd a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,
\nAnd a breaking the hoops of butter-casks;
\nAnd it seemed as if a voice
\n(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery
\nIs breathed) called out, ‘Oh rats, rejoice!
\nThe world is grown to one vast drysaltery!
\nSo munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,
\nBreakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!’
\nAnd just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,
\nAll ready staved, like a great sun shone
\nGlorious scarce an inch before me,
\nJust as methought it said, ‘Come, bore me!’–
\nI found the Weser rolling o’er me.”<\/p>\n


\nPART SECOND.
\n1.
\nYou should have heard the Hamelin people
\nRinging the bells till they rocked the steeple;
\n“Go,” cried the Mayor, “and get long poles!
\nPoke out the nests and block up the holes!
\nConsult with carpenters and builders,
\nAnd leave in our town not even a trace
\nOf the rats!” –when suddenly, up the face
\nOf the Piper perked in the market-place,
\nWith a, “First, if you please, my thousand guilders!”<\/p>\n

2.
\nA thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;
\nSo did the Corporation too:
\nFor council-dinners made rare havoc
\nWith Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;
\nAnd half the money would replenish
\nTheir cellar’s biggest butt with Rhenish.
\nTo pay this sum to a wandering fellow
\nWith a gypsy coat of red and yellow! <\/p>\n

3.
\n“Beside,” quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink,
\n“Our business was done at the river’s brink;
\nWe saw with our eyes the vermin sink,
\nAnd what’s dead can’t come to life, I think.
\nSo, friend, we’re not the folks to shrink
\nFrom the duty of giving you something to drink,
\nAnd a matter of money to put in your poke;
\nBut as for the guilders, what we spoke
\nOf them, as you very well know, was in joke.
\nBeside, our losses have made us thrifty.
\nA thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!”<\/p>\n

4.
\nThe Piper’s face fell, and he cried,
\n“No trifling! I can’t wait! beside,
\nI’ve promised to visit by dinner-time,
\nBagdat, and accept the prime
\nOf the Head Cook’s pottage, all he’s rich in,
\nFor having left, in the Caliph’s kitchen,
\nOf a nest of scorpions no survivor–
\nWith him I proved no bargain-driver,
\nWith you, don’t think I’ll bate a stiver!
\nAnd folks who put me in a passion
\nMay find me pipe after another fashion.”<\/p>\n

5.
\n“`How?” cried the Mayor, “d’ye think I’ll brook
\nBeing worse treated than a cook?
\nInsulted by a lazy ribald
\nWith idle pipe, and vesture piebald?
\nYou threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,
\nBlow your pipe there till you burst!”<\/p>\n

6.
\nOnce more he stepped into the street;
\nAnd to his lips again
\nLaid his long pipe of smooth, straight cane;
\nAnd ere he blew three notes (such sweet
\nSoft notes as yet musician’s cunning
\nNever gave the enraptured air),
\nThere was a rustling, that seemed like a bustling
\nOf merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling;
\nSmall feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
\nLittle hands clapping, and little tongues chattering;
\nAnd like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering,
\nOut came the children running.
\nAll the little boys and girls,
\nWith rosy cheeks, and flaxen curls,
\nAnd sparkling eyes, and teeth like pearls,
\nTripping and skipping, ran merrily after
\nThe wonderful music with shouting and laughter.<\/p>\n

7.
\nThe Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
\nAs if they were changed into blocks of wood,
\nUnable to move a step, or cry
\nTo the children merrily skipping by–
\nAnd could only follow with the eye
\nThat joyous crowd at the Piper’s back.
\nBut how the Mayor was on the rack,
\nAnd the wretched Council’s bosoms beat,
\nAs the Piper turned from the High Street
\nTo where the Weser rolled its waters
\nRight in the way of their sons and daughters! <\/p>\n

8.
\nHowever, he turned from south to west,
\nAnd to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,
\nAnd after him the children pressed;
\nGreat was the joy in every breast.
\nHHe never can cross that mighty top!
\nHe’s forced to let the piping drop,
\nAnd we shall see our children stop!”
\nWhen, lo! as they reached the mountain’s side,
\nA wondrous portal opened wide,
\nAs if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;
\nAnd the Piper advanced, and the children followed;
\nAnd when all were in to the very last,
\nThe door in the mountain side shut fast. <\/p>\n

9.
\nDid I say all? No: One was lame,
\nAnd could not dance the whole of the way;
\nAnd in after years, if you would blame
\nHis sadness, he was used to say:
\n“It’s dull in our town since my playmates left!
\nI can’t forget that I’m bereft
\nOf all the pleasant sights they see,
\nWhich the Piper also promised me;
\nFor he led us, he said, to a joyous land,
\nJoining the town, and just at hand,
\nWhere waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,
\nAnd flowers put forth a fairer hue,
\nAnd every thing was strange and new;
\nThe sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,
\nAnd their dogs outran our fallow deer,
\nAnd honey-bees had lost their stings,
\nAnd horses were born with eagles’ wings;
\nAnd just as I became assured
\nMy lame foot would be speedily cured,
\nThe music stopped, and I stood still,
\nAnd found myself outside the Hill,
\nLeft alone against my will,
\nTo go now limping as before,
\nAnd never hear of that country more!”<\/p>\n

10.
\nAlas, alas for Hamelin!
\nThere came into many a burgher’s pate
\nA text which says, that Heaven’s Gate
\nOpes to the rich at as easy rate
\nAs the needle’s eye takes a camel in!–
\nThe mayor sent east, west, north and south,
\nTo offer the Piper by word of mouth,
\nWherever it was men’s lot to find him,
\nSilver and gold to his heart’s content,
\nIf he’d only return the way he went,
\nAnd bring the children behind him. <\/p>\n

11.
\nBut when they saw ’twas a lost endeavour,
\nAnd Piper and dancers were gone for ever,
\nThey made a decree that lawyers never
\nShould think their records dated duly
\nIf, after the day of the month and year,
\nThese words did not as well appear:
\n“And so long after what happened here
\nOn the Twenty-second of July,
\nThirteen hundred and seventy-six;
\nAnd, the better in memory to fix
\nThe place of the children’s last retreat,
\nThey called it the Pied Piper’s Street–
\nWhere any one playing on pipe or tabor,
\nWas sure for the future to lose his labor. <\/p>\n

12.
\nNor suffered they hostelry or tavern
\nTo shock with mirth a street so solemn;
\nBut opposite the place of the cavern
\nThey wrote the story on a column,
\nAnd on the Great Church window painted
\nThe same, to make the world acquainted
\nHow their children were stolen away;–
\nAnd there it stands to this very day. <\/p>\n

13.
\nAnd I must not omit to say
\nThat in Transylvania there’s a tribe
\nOf alien people who ascribe
\nThe outlandish ways and dress
\nOn which their neighbors lay such stress,
\nTo their fathers and mothers having risen
\nOut of some subterranean prison
\nInto which they were trapanned,
\nLong time ago in a mighty band ,
\nOut of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,
\nBut how or why, they don’t understand.<\/p>\n

14.
\nSo, Willy, let me and you be wipers
\nOf scores out with all men– especially pipers:
\nAnd, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,
\nIf we’ve promised them aught, let us keep our promise!<\/p>\n

     
\n
\n“The Pied Piper”<\/strong> (PG)
\n     <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Robert Browning poem.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7884,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[631],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6733"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6733"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6733\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13216,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6733\/revisions\/13216"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/7884"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6733"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6733"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6733"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}