pipe to his lips, and began to play a little tune. It was quite a
different little tune, this time, very soft and sweet, and very, very
strange. And before he had played three notes, you heard


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 farmyard 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.

"Stop, stop!" cried the people. "He is taking our children! Stop him, Mr
Mayor!"

"I will give you your money, I will!" cried the Mayor, and tried to run
after the Piper.

But the very same music that made the children dance made the grown-up
people stand stock-still; it was as if their feet had been tied to the
ground; they could not move a muscle. There they stood and saw the Piper
move slowly down the street, playing his little tune, with the children at
his heels. On and on he went; on and on the children danced; till he came
to the bank of the river.