Mitz was not Mitz today. She was the Pied Piper of Hamelin! She had started off for a walk through the town. With her was Frank, the long dog, and an equally long sausage. She had asked her mother's permission to go.

Mrs. Toymaker had said, "Yes, you may go. But be sure to come home early."

Fritz stayed with his father, helping him to paint some toys and to repair others. They were getting ready for a fair in Hanover, a city not far away.

So Mitzi wandered off alone—Mitz, Frank, and the sausage! They passed through an old gateway into Hamelin. What a storybook town it was! Every crooked house, every narrow street reminded Mitzi of the Pied Piper legend.

She could almost see the funny, tall man playing on his pipes. She could imagine the rats scampering after him. She could hear the voices of the children as they followed his music. For, when the Piper had charmed the terrible rats out of Hamelin, the people refused to pay him what they had promised. So the tall stranger piped the children away, in order to punish the ungrateful villagers.

Robert Browning has written a poem about it.

Hamelin is a quiet little town. Mitzi came upon an old fountain named after the rat catcher. She saw an inn called the Rat Jug. Altogether it was too magical and story-like to be true. So Mitzi became the Pied Piper.

She began to lift her feet up high. She straightened out her plump little shoulders. Then she raised the sausage to her lips. But she did not eat it. The sausage became her pipe. Marching along with Frank at her heels, she piped upon her sausage and lived the old story. A few people looked at her and smiled.

Through a narrow lane she went. It was the same lane through which the Piper had led the children. Even today it is unlawful to play a pipe in this lane. But Mitzi's pipe could only be heard by Mitzi herself. She followed the pathway out of town and upon a country road.

The lines of the poem came to her mind:

She led her make-believe children up the mountain side—a long line of children, but really, only a long dog! They reached a cave in the hillside. The sun beat down upon them and the little dog's tongue swept the ground. This was not strange, since Frank was so close to the ground, anyway.

Mitzi sat down upon a rock and began to eat her pipe. She was still in a land of other things. She could still see the mass of children flocking after the sweet music. She could hear their laughter as they tumbled into the cave.

And then it happened! Real music! It was coming closer. A tall figure appeared over the hill.

He stood before Mitzi and stopped playing on his pipe.

He said, "Why are you not in the cave, Mitzi? Go into the cave with the other children."

"I must go home to Mother and Father and Fritz," said Mitzi. "It grows late. See! The sun is sinking."

Indeed, it had become darker, and there was a chill in the air.

"Go into the cave, Mitzi," repeated the tall stranger quietly.

Then he began to play the sweetest music that Mitzi had ever heard. He walked into the cave, prancing as he walked. Mitzi got up. She wanted to run home, but she could not. She could only follow the Piper into the cave.

Now, at the toy maker's wagon the family began to worry. It was almost dark, and Mitzi had not come home.

"I will go and find her," said Fritz.

Mrs. Toymaker decided to go along with Fritz.

Meanwhile, Mitzi was inside the cave. There she sat with many wide-eyed children. She wanted to go home. But the Piper was playing and making her happy. She felt all snuggly and contented.

Suddenly she thought of Fritz. Oh, she must go! She and Fritz had much to do. She could not stay here any longer. In the morning they were going to leave Hamelin. If she did not return to the wagon, they would go on without her.

"Let me out! Let me out!" cried Mitzi. "I must go to Fritz. Let me out!"

The Piper tried to hold her. She struggled. She kicked. She screamed.

"Stop! Stop! You are hurting me," said the Piper.

"I mean to hurt you!" she cried. "I want to go. I want Fritz."

"Then wake up, you silly," said the Piper. "For I am Fritz!"

She stopped kicking and looked. Yes, the Piper had the face of Fritz. He was Fritz! She rubbed her eyes. How could Fritz be a Pied Piper? Where did he get the cloak? She rubbed her eyes again. This time, when she looked, the Piper was not there any more, but only Fritz and her mother, laughing at her.

"Come home, you little sleepyhead," said Mrs. Toymaker, putting her arm about her little daughter.

On the way home Mitzi could not speak. And when Mitzi could not speak, there was something quite wrong or strange or exciting. This time it was something exciting. For her dream had given her a wonderful idea.