X.

    The Piper’s face fell, and he cried,
    “No trifling!  I can’t wait, beside! 
    I’ve promised to visit by dinner-time
    Bagdad, and accept the prime
    Of the Head-Cook’s pottage, all he’s rich in,
    For having left, in the Caliph’s kitchen,
    Of a nest of scorpions no survivor: 
    With him I proved no bargain-driver,
    With you, don’t think I’ll bate a stiver! 
    And folks who put me in a passion
    May find me pipe after another fashion.”

XI.

    “How?” cried the Mayor, “d’ ye think I brook
    Being worse treated than a Cook? 
    Insulted by a lazy ribald
    With idle pipe and vesture piebald? 
    You threaten us, fellow?  Do your worst,
    Blow your pipe there till you burst!”

XII.

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. 
    —­Could only follow with the eye
    That joyous crowd at the Piper’s back. 
    But how the Mayor was on the rack,
    And the wretched Council’s bosoms beat,
    As the Piper turned from the High Street
    To where the Weser rolled its waters
    Right in the way of their sons and daughters! 
    However he turned from South to West,
    And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,
    And after him the children pressed;
    Great was the joy in every breast. 
    “He never can cross that mighty top! 
    He’s forced to let the piping drop,
    And we shall see our children stop!”
    When, lo, as they reached the mountain-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