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 cheque;
    And at the scarf’s end hung a pipe;
    And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying
    As if impatient to be playing
    Upon his pipe, as low it dangled
    Over his vesture so old-fangled.)
    “Yet,” said he, “poor piper as I am,
    In Tartary I freed the Cham,
    Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;
    I eased in Asia the Nizam
    Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats: 
    And as for what your brain bewilders,
    If I can rid your town of rats
    Will you give me a thousand guilders?”
    “One?  Fifty thousand!” was the exclamation
    Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

    VII.

    Into the street the Piper stept,
    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 had 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,
    Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar,
    Swam across and lived to carry
    (As he, the manuscript he cherished)
    To Rat-land home his commentary: 
    Which was, “At the first shrill notes of the pipe,
    I heard a sound as of scraping tripe,
    And putting apples, wondrous ripe,
    Into a cider-press’s gripe: 
    And a moving away of pickle-tub boards,
    And a leaving ajar of conserve cupboards
    And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,
    And a breaking the hoops of