Pied Piper of Hameln The River Weser, deep and wide, Washes its wall on the southern side; A pleasanter spot you never spied; But, when begins my ditty, Almost five hundred years ago, To see townsfolk suffer so From vermin, was a pity. Rats! They fought the dogs, and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats, By drowning their speaking In fifty different sharps and flats. At last the people in a body To the Town Hall came flocking: "'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy; And as for our Corporation -- shocking To think we buy gowns lined with ermine For dolts that can't or won't determine What's best to rid us of our vermin! You hope, because you're old and obese, To find in the furry civic robe ease? Rouse up, sirs!

Give your brains a racking To find the remedy we're lacking, Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!" At this the Mayor and Corporation Quaked with a mighty consternation. An hour they sate in council, At length the Mayor broke silence: "For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell, I wish I were a mile hence! It's easy to bid one rack one's brain -- I'm sure my poor head aches again I've scratched it so, and all in vain. Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!" Just as he said this, what should hap At the chamber-door but a gentle tap? "Bless us," cried the Mayor, "What's that?" (With the Corporation as he sat, Looking little though wondrous fat; Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister Than a too-long-opened oyster, Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous For a plate of turtle, green and glutinous.) "Only a scraping of shoes on the mat? Anything like the sound of a rat Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!" "Come in!" -- the Mayor cried, looking bigger: And in did come the strangest figure!

His queer long coat from heel to head Was half of yellow and half of red; And he himself was tall and thin, With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin, But lips where smiles went out and in -- There was no guessing his kith and kin! And nobody could enough admire The tall man and his quaint attire. Quoth one: "It's as my great-grandsire, Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone, Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!" 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 selfsame 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 this 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.

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 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 the drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks; And it seemed as if a voice (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery Is breathed) called out, Oh rats, rejoice! The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!

And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon, All ready staved, like a great sun shone Glorious scarce an inch before me, Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!' -- I found the Weser rolling o'er me." You should have heard the Hamelin people Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple. "Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles! Poke out the nests and block up the holes! Consult with carpenters and builders, And leave in our town not even a trace Of the rats!" -- when suddenly up the face Of the Piper perked in the market-place, With a, "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!" A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue; So did the Corporation, too. For council dinners made rare havoc With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; And half the money would replenish Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish. To pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!

"Beside," quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink, "Our business was done at the river's brink; We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, And what's dead can't come to life, I think. So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink From the duty of giving you something for drink, And a matter of money to put in your poke; But, as for the guilders, what we spoke Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. Beside, our losses have made us thrifty: A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!" The Piper's face fell, and he cried, "No trifling! I can't wait, beside! I've promised to visit, by dinner-time Bagdat, 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 bait a stiver!

And folks who put me in a passion May find me pipe to another fashion." "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!" 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.

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 was lame, And could not dance the whole of the way; And in after years, if you would blame His sadness, he was used to say, -- "It's dull in our town since my playmates left! I can't forget that I'm bereft Of all the pleasant sights they see, Which the Piper also promised me; For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, Joining the town and just at hand, Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew, And flowers put forth a fairer hue, And everything was strange and new; The sparrows were brighter than the peacocks here, And their dogs outran our fallow deer, And honey-bees had lost their stings, And horses were born with eagles' wings; And just as I became assured My lame foot would be speedily cured, The music stopped and I stood still, And found myself outside the hill, Left alone against my will, To go now limping as before, And never hear of that country more!" Alas, alas for Hamelin!

There came into many a burgher's pate A text which says, that heaven's Gate Opes to the rich at as easy rate As the needle's eye takes a camel in! The Mayor sent East, West, North, and South To offer the Piper by word of mouth, Wherever it was men's lot to find him, Silver and gold to his heart's content, If he'd only return the way he went, And bring the children behind him. But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor, And Piper and dancers were gone forever, They made a decree that lawyers never Should think their records dated duly If, after the day of the month and year, These words did not as well appear, "And so long after what happened here On the Twenty-second of July, Thirteen hundred and Seventy-six;" And the better in memory to fix The place of the children's last retreat, They called it, the Pied Piper's Street -- Where any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labor.

Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern To shock with mirth a street so solemn; But opposite the place of the cavern They wrote the story on a column, And on the great church-window painted The same, to make the world acquainted How their children were stolen away, And there it stands to this very day. And I must not omit to say That in Transylvania there's a tribe Of alien people that ascribe The outlandish ways and dress On which their neighbors lay such stress, To their fathers and mothers having risen Out of some subterraneous prison Into which they were trepanned Long time ago in a mighty band Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, But how or why, they don't understand. So, Willy, let you and me be wipers Of scores out with all men -- especially pipers; And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise. Source: Robert Browning, The Pied Piper of Hamelin . Illustrated by Kate Greenaway (London and New York: Frederick Warne and Company, 1888). This poem was written in 1842.

Source: Joseph Jacobs, More English Fairy Tales (London: David Nutt, 1894), pp. 1-6 . Jacobs entitles this story simply "The Pied Piper." Jacobs' source: Abraham Elder, Tales and Legends of the Isle of Wight (London: Simpkin, Marshall, and Company, 1839), pp. 157-64 . Notes on the place names mentioned in the tale: Newtown (formerly called Franchville) is a small town on the Isle of Wight. The street names "Gold Street" and "Silver Street" are authentic. The Solent is the sound separating the Isle of Wight from the main island of Britain. John o' Groats is the northernmost point of mainland Scotland. Land's End is southernmost and westernmost tip of Cornwall. Source: Sheykh-Zada, "The Lady's Twenty-Eighth Story," The History of the Forty Vezirs; or, The Story of the Forty Morns and Eves , translated by E. J. W. Gibb (London: George Redway, 1886), pp. 300-302 . Title provided and language cautiously modernized by D.

L. Ashliman. Aleppo (Arabic Halab) is the principal city of northern Syria. Avicenna (Arabic Ibn Sina) was the most influential philosopher-scientist of medieval Islam. An ethnic Persion, he was born in the year 980 in Bukhara, Iran and died in 1037 in Hamadan. Contrary to the above legend, his biographers claim that he spent his entire life in eastern and central Iran. The Pied Piper of Hamelin , an article from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. A home page for the city of Hameln, Germany: Stadt Hameln . A home page for city of Korneuburg, Austria: Korneuburg kulturell . A home page for Newtown, Isle of Wight . Der Rattenfänger von Korneuburg , an account, in German, of the man who freed the Austrian town of Korneuburg of rats. This text is part of Wolfgang Morscher's extensive collection of German-language legends Sagen.at . Der Rattenfänger , a ballad by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. This ballad was set to music by Hugo Wolf in 1888.

Der Rattenfänger von Hameln , a ballad from the folksong collection Des Knaben Wunderhorn by Clemens Brentano and Achim von Arnim. This collection was published in three volumes between 1806 and 1808. The Pied Piper of Hamelin The Pied Piper of Hamelin Once upon a time there was a town called Hamelin. Hamelin was a prosperous town. It was a port town on the River Weser. Barges full of corn would come down the River Weser and unload at Hamelin. There were silos full of corn in Hamelin. Barges full of wheat would come up the River Weser and unload at Hamelin. There were silos full of wheat in Hamelin. With the silos full of corn and wheat came mills for grinding the corn and wheat, bakeries for baking bread and cakes, shops for selling the bread and cakes and, of course, people for eating. The people were so prosperous and busy loading and unloading, milling, baking and eating that they didn't notice all the litter and rubbish that was accumulating in the streets and, of course, with the rubbish came the rats.

There were rats everywhere in Hamelin - rats in the corn silos, rats in the wheat silos, rats in the bakeries, rats in the shops, rats in the streets, and rats in the houses. The rats bred and grew and grew and bred and soon there were so many rats that life became quite miserable for the citizens of Hamelin. They couldn't bake a cake, take a bath, or sleep in their beds without the rats joining in. The rats even nibbled on the ears of babies sleeping in their cots. Something had to be done. The people of Hamelin made their way to the Town Square and knocked on the big brass doors of the Town Hall and demanded to know what the Lord Mayor was doing about the rats. The Lord Mayor appeared on the balcony in his black robes and gold chains and made a speech. "Good citizens of Hamelin you may rest assured that what needs to be done is being done. Don't you worry about that." The good citizens of Hamelin weren't too sure about that but they went home to their houses to see what would be done. But nothing was done.

There was just as much rubbish in the streets and just as many rats in the mills, the bakeries, the shops and the houses. In fact there were more rats. The rats kept growing and breeding and breeding and growing and eating and eating and eating. They ate anything they could get their teeth on. Nothing or no one was safe from the rats. The people were angry and marched to the Town Square and pounded on the big brass doors and demanded to know exactly what the Lord Mayor was going to do. When no Lord Mayor appeared on the balcony. The people started to chant - "No rats!" "No rats!" "No rats!" "No rats!" Finally the Lord Mayor appeared on the balcony in his black robes and gold chains and announced somewhat nervously that he had a definite plan of action. "Good citizens of Hamelin you will pleased to know that I, the Lord Mayor, have given orders that a large hole in the ground will be dug on the outskirts of Hamelin and into that hole will be swept all of the rubbish in the streets and all of the rats that can be found and killed.

Soon Hamelin will be clean and clear of rats." Soon the large hole in the ground was full of stinking rubbish and the bodies of dead rats and hurriedly covered over with dirt. But it was not enough, there were too many rats in too many hiding places all over the town and too much food for them in the silos and bakeries and shops and houses and they grew and bred and bred and grew just as fast as before. And now with the rats came a plague of fleas. And with the fleas came a strange sickness. Some children and old people had already died. A plague was on Hamelin! As you can imagine the people of Hamelin were even angrier. They marched once more to the town square. Each of them carried with them a dozen dead rats as proof of the failure of the Lord Mayors plan. They threw the rats in a pile in the middle of the square and from a pole they hung an effigy that looked remarkably like the Lord Mayor in his black robes and his gold chains.

They started chanting - "No Rats or no Mayor!" "No Rats or no Mayor!" "No Rats or no Mayor!" When the Lord Mayor did come out on his balcony, he was surrounded by his Councillors and he announced rather nervously that the council had, in view of the rather desperate situation, agreed to offer a magnificent reward of one thousand gold guilders to any person who could rid the town of the rats. The very next day a stranger appeared in Hamelin. He was different to everyone else. His clothes were colourful and seemed to come from many different places. He wore a hat covered with feathers and shells and bones. From a long scarf hung a silver pipe. The stranger followed the carts up from the port and he saw the silos full of corn and the silos full of wheat and the mills and bakeries and shops and houses and people and rubbish and the rats. He walked quietly to the Town Square and knocked on the big brass doors of the Town Hall. He told the Mayor and his councillors that, for a thousand gold guilders, he could rid Hamelin of the rats that infested it. The Mayor enthusiastically agreed and the Pied Piper stepped outside. He stood in the Square and looked quietly around.

He took a deep breath and blew a note on his silver pipe that spoke to the rats of far off places, of woods and forests and rocks and mountains. He blew another note that spoke to the rats of foxes and wolves with sharp teeth and hawks and eagles with cruel talons. He blew a third note and all of the rats in Hamelin started to scurry towards the Pied Piper. They scurried out of doors, out of the windows, out of drains and out of holes. They scurried down the lanes and streets towards the square. Now the Pied Piper started to play a dancing tune and he danced out of the square and the rats followed along behind. They moved out of the town and towards the port. At the river side the Piper stopped and he placed just one toe in the water and, as he continued playing, the rats continued dancing across the wharves and into the river. Rats by their thousands danced out of the town, across the wharves and splashed into the river where they were drowned. When the last one had disappeared beneath the waters of the Weser, the Pied Piper stopped. He stood quietly looking at the water for a while and then turned and walked back to the Town Square.

The good people of Hamelin were celebrating the victory against the rats. At last they were free of the pestilence. The Lord Mayor and all of his Councillors were up on their balcony slapping each other on the back and making speeches. The Pied Piper waited for a quiet space and asked for his one thousand gold guilders. The Mayor called out so everyone could hear, "A thousand gold guilders? How could you have possibly earned a thousand gold guilders? Why, everyone saw how, while the rats were drowning themselves in the river, all you did was dance about and play on that silly little pipe of yours. Here, be satisfied with forty guilders and think your self lucky at that." To the shame of the people of Hamelin they agreed with their Mayor and laughed at the Pied Piper as he walked quietly out of the town. The next day was a religious feast and all of the adults were in the church as he walked back into the town. He stood quietly for a while in the Town Square and then took a breath and played a note that spoke to the children of far away places, clean air and sparking rivers. He blew another note that spoke to the children of fun and games and whales and dolphins and bright coloured parrots.

He blew a third note and all of the children started to run and jump and skip out of the houses towards the Town Square. As they ran and jumped and skipped towards him the Pied Piper started to dance out of the square towards the port. The adults in the church heard all of the children go past and they rushed out of the church to see what was happening. They called out to the children to stop and to come back but it was like they could no longer hear their parents' voices. The parents were relieved when they saw the Pied Piper turn away from the river and dance with the children towards the mountain. Their relief turned to horror though when a small door appeared in the side of the mountain and first the Pied Piper and then the children started to run and jump and skip inside. The parents ran up to stop them but it was too late. All of the children, bar one boy who was hopping along on crutches and couldn't keep up, disappeared inside the mountain and the small door slammed shut so tightly that no one could tell exactly where it had been. The people raced up with shovels and picks and started furiously digging holes in the mountain side but it was all to no avail.

The small boy on crutches tried to tell them of the sounds of far away places, clean air and sparking rivers and fun and games and whales and dolphins and bright coloured parrots but no one seemed able to hear. In time the people got over their shock and life started to go on again. Barges full of corn came down the River Weser and unloaded at Hamelin. Soon there were silos full of corn once again in Hamelin. Barges full of wheat came up the River Weser and unloaded at Hamelin. There were silos full of wheat once again in Hamelin but they never forgot the Pied Piper and they always paid their debts in full and on time. ï¿½ 1996 Daryll Bellingham, Storyteller (An adaption of the traditional story created through being asked to tell it in local schools.) These story is available for downloading for the purpose of reading and telling to others. If you do so, please tell people where you got the story and please make a donation to an environmental organisation. If you would like to publish it or retell it as a means of earning an income please seek my permission.

Robert Browning: the Pied Piper of Hamelin: the complete text THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN I. 1 Hamelin Town's in Brunswick, 2 By famous Hanover city; 3 The river Weser, deep and wide, 4 Washes its wall on the southern side; 5 A pleasanter spot you never spied; 6 But, when begins my ditty, 7 Almost five hundred years ago, 8 To see the townsfolk suffer so 9 From vermin, was a pity. II. 11 They fought the dogs and killed the cats, 12 And bit the babies in the cradles, 13 And ate the cheeses out of the vats, 14 And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles, 15 Split open the kegs of salted sprats, 16 Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, 17 And even spoiled the women's chats, 18 By drowning their speaking 19 With shrieking and squeaking 20 In fifty different sharps and flats.

[III.] 21 At last the people in a body 22 To the Town Hall came flocking: 23 ``Tis clear,'' cried they, ``our Mayor's a noddy; 24 ``And as for our Corporation -- shocking 25 ``To think we buy gowns lined with ermine 26 ``For dolts that can't or won't determine 27 ``What's best to rid us of our vermin! 28 ``You hope, because you're old and obese, 29 ``To find in the furry civic robe ease? 30 ``Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking 31 ``To find the remedy we're lacking, 32 ``Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!'' 33 At this the Mayor and Corporation 34 Quaked with a mighty consternation. IV. 35 An hour they sat in council, 36 At length the Mayor broke silence: 37 ``For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell; 38 ``I wish I were a mile hence!

39 ``It's easy to bid one rack one's brain -- 40 ``I'm sure my poor head aches again, 41 ``I've scratched it so, and all in vain 42 ``Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!'' 43 Just as he said this, what should hap 44 At the chamber door but a gentle tap? 45 ``Bless us,'' cried the Mayor, ``what's that?'' 46 (With the Corporation as he sat, 47 Looking little though wondrous fat; 48 Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister 49 Than a too-long-opened oyster, 50 Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous 51 For a plate of turtle green and glutinous) 52 `Only a scraping of shoes on the mat? 53 ``Anything like the sound of a rat 54 ``Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!'' V. 55 ``Come in!'' -- the Mayor cried, looking bigger 56 And in did come the strangest figure!

57 His queer long coat from heel to head 58 Was half of yellow and half of red, 59 And he himself was tall and thin, 60 With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, 61 And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin 62 No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin, 63 But lips where smile went out and in; 64 There was no guessing his kith and kin: 65 And nobody could enough admire 66 The tall man and his quaint attire. 67 Quoth one: ``It's as my great-grandsire, 68 ``Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone, 69 ``Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!'' VI. 70 He advanced to the council-table: 71 And, ``Please your honours,'' said he, ``I'm able, 72 ``By means of a secret charm, to draw 73 ``All creatures living beneath the sun, 74 ``That creep or swim or fly or run, 75 ``After me so as you never saw!

76 ``And I chiefly use my charm 77 ``On creatures that do people harm, 78 ``The mole and toad and newt and viper; 79 ``And people call me the Pied Piper.'' 80 (And here they noticed round his neck 81 A scarf of red and yellow stripe, 82 To match with his coat of the self-same cheque; 83 And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; 84 And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying 85 As if impatient to be playing 86 Upon this pipe, as low it dangled 87 Over his vesture so old-fangled.) 88 ``Yet,'' said he, ``poor piper as I am, 89 ``In Tartary I freed the Cham, 90 ``Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats, 91 ``I eased in Asia the Nizam 92 ``Of a monstrous brood of vampyre-bats: 93 ``And as for what your brain bewilders, 94 ``If I can rid your town of rats 95 ``Will you give me a thousand guilders?''

 96 ``One?

fifty thousand!'' -- was the exclamation 97 Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation. VII. 98 Into the street the Piper stept, 99 Smiling first a little smile, 100 As if he knew what magic slept 101 In his quiet pipe the while; 102 Then, like a musical adept, 103 To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, 104 And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled, 105 Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled; 106 And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, 107 You heard as if an army muttered; 108 And the muttering grew to a grumbling; 109 And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; 110 And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.

111 Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, 112 Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats, 113 Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, 114 Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, 115 Cocking tails and pricking whiskers, 116 Families by tens and dozens, 117 Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives -- 118 Followed the Piper for their lives. 119 From street to street he piped advancing, 120 And step for step they followed dancing, 121 Until they came to the river Weser 122 Wherein all plunged and perished!

123 -- Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, 124 Swam across and lived to carry 125 (As he, the manuscript he cherished) 126 To Rat-land home his commentary: 127 Which was, ``At the first shrill notes of the pipe, 128 ``I heard a sound as of scraping tripe, 129 ``And putting apples, wondrous ripe, 130 ``Into a cider-press's gripe: 131 ``And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards, 132 ``And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards, 133 ``And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, 134 ``And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks: 135 ``And it seemed as if a voice 136 ``(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery 137 ``Is breathed) called out, `Oh rats, rejoice! 138 ```The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!

139 ```So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, 140 ```Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!' 141 ``And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon, 142 ``All ready staved, like a great sun shone 143 ``Glorious scarce an inch before me, 144 ``Just as methought it said, `Come, bore me!' 145 `` -- I found the Weser rolling o'er me.'' VIII. 146 You should have heard the Hamelin people 147 Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple 148 ``Go,'' cried the Mayor, ``and get long poles, 149 ``Poke out the nests and block up the holes! 150 ``Consult with carpenters and builders, 151 ``And leave in our town not even a trace 152 ``Of the rats!'' -- when suddenly, up the face 153 Of the Piper perked in the market-place, 154 With a, ``First, if you please, my thousand guilders!'' IX.

155 A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue; 156 So did the Corporation too. 157 For council dinners made rare havoc 158 With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; 159 And half the money would replenish 160 Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish. 161 To pay this sum to a wandering fellow 162 With a gipsy coat of red and yellow! 163 ``Beside,'' quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink, 164 ``Our business was done at the river's brink; 165 ``We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, 166 ``And what's dead can't come to life, I think. 167 ``So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink 168 ``From the duty of giving you something to drink, 169 ``And a matter of money to put in your poke; 170 ``But as for the guilders, what we spoke 171 ``Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.

172 ``Beside, our losses have made us thrifty. 173 ``A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!'' X. 174 The Piper's face fell, and he cried, 175 ``No trifling! I can't wait, beside! 176 ``I've promised to visit by dinner-time 177 ``Bagdad, and accept the prime 178 ``Of the Head-Cook's pottage, all he's rich in, 179 ``For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen, 180 ``Of a nest of scorpions no survivor: 181 ``With him I proved no bargain-driver, 182 ``With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver! 183 ``And folks who put me in a passion 184 ``May find me pipe after another fashion.'' XI. 185 ``How?'' cried the Mayor, ``d'ye think I brook 186 ``Being worse treated than a Cook? 187 ``Insulted by a lazy ribald 188 ``With idle pipe and vesture piebald?

189 ``You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, 190 ``Blow your pipe there till you burst!'' XII. 191 Once more he stept into the street, 192 And to his lips again 193 Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; 194 And ere he blew three notes (such sweet 195 Soft notes as yet musician's cunning 196 Never gave the enraptured air) 197 There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling 198 Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling, 199 Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, 200 Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering, 201 And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering, 202 Out came the children running. 203 All the little boys and girls, 204 With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, 205 And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, 206 Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after 207 The wonderful music with shouting and laughter. XIII.

208 The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood 209 As if they were changed into blocks of wood, 210 Unable to move a step, or cry 211 To the children merrily skipping by, 212 -- Could only follow with the eye 213 That joyous crowd at the Piper's back. 214 But how the Mayor was on the rack, 215 And the wretched Council's bosoms beat, 216 As the Piper turned from the High Street 217 To where the Weser rolled its waters 218 Right in the way of their sons and daughters! 219 However he turned from South to West, 220 And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, 221 And after him the children pressed; 222 Great was the joy in every breast. 223 ``He never can cross that mighty top!

224 ``He's forced to let the piping drop, 225 ``And we shall see our children stop!'' 226 When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side, 227 A wondrous portal opened wide, 228 As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed; 229 And the Piper advanced and the children followed, 230 And when all were in to the very last, 231 The door in the mountain-side shut fast. 232 Did I say, all? No! One was lame, 233 And could not dance the whole of the way; 234 And in after years, if you would blame 235 His sadness, he was used to say, -- 236 ``It's dull in our town since my playmates left! 237 ``I can't forget that I'm bereft 238 ``Of all the pleasant sights they see, 239 ``Which the Piper also promised me.

240 ``For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, 241 ``Joining the town and just at hand, 242 ``Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew, 243 ``And flowers put forth a fairer hue, 244 ``And everything was strange and new; 245 ``The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, 246 ``And their dogs outran our fallow deer, 247 ``And honey-bees had lost their stings, 248 ``And horses were born with eagles' wings; 249 ``And just as I became assured 250 ``My lame foot would be speedily cured, 251 ``The music stopped and I stood still, 252 ``And found myself outside the hill, 253 ``Left alone against my will, 254 ``To go now limping as before, 255 ``And never hear of that country more!'' XIV. 256 Alas, alas for Hamelin!

257 There came into many a burgher's pate 258 A text which says that heaven's gate 259 Opes to the rich at as easy rate 260 As the needle's eye takes a camel in! 261 The mayor sent East, West, North and South, 262 To offer the Piper, by word of mouth, 263 Wherever it was men's lot to find him, 264 Silver and gold to his heart's content, 265 If he'd only return the way he went, 266 And bring the children behind him.

267 But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavour, 268 And Piper and dancers were gone for ever, 269 They made a decree that lawyers never 270 Should think their records dated duly 271 If, after the day of the month and year, 272 These words did not as well appear, 273 ``And so long after what happened here 274 ``On the Twenty-second of July, 275 ``Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:'' 276 And the better in memory to fix 277 The place of the children's last retreat, 278 They called it, the Pied Piper's Street -- 279 Where any one playing on pipe or tabor, 280 Was sure for the future to lose his labour.

281 Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern 282 To shock with mirth a street so solemn; 283 But opposite the place of the cavern 284 They wrote the story on a column, 285 And on the great church-window painted 286 The same, to make the world acquainted 287 How their children were stolen away, 288 And there it stands to this very day. 289 And I must not omit to say 290 That in Transylvania there's a tribe 291 Of alien people who ascribe 292 The outlandish ways and dress 293 On which their neighbours lay such stress, 294 To their fathers and mothers having risen 295 Out of some subterraneous prison 296 Into which they were trepanned 297 Long time ago in a mighty band 298 Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, 299 But how or why, they don't understand. XV. 300 So, Willy, let me and you be wipers 301 Of scores out with all men -- especially pipers!

302 And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, 303 If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise! The Pied Piper of Hamelin - Poems | Academy of American Poets Academy of American Poets The Academy of American Poets is the largest membership-based nonprofit organization fostering an appreciation for contemporary poetry and supporting American poets. For over three generations, the Academy has connected millions of people to great poetry through programs such as National Poetry Month, the largest literary celebration in the world; Poets.org, the Academy’s popular website; American Poets, a biannual literary journal; and an annual series of poetry readings and special events. Since its founding, the Academy has awarded more money to poets than any other organization. browse poems & poets sign up to receive a new poem-a-day in your inbox sign up Pirate Story by Robert Louis Stevenson Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson Loneliness by Trumbull Stickney read this poet's poems Robert Browning was born on May 7, 1812, in Camberwell, England. His mother was an accomplished pianist and a devout evangelical Christian.

His father, who worked as a bank clerk, was also an artist, scholar, antiquarian, and collector of books and pictures. His rare book collection of more than 6,000 volumes included works in Greek, Hebrew, Latin, French, Italian, and Spanish. Much of Browning's education came from his well-read father. It is believed that he was already proficient at reading and writing by the age of five. A bright and anxious student, Browning learned Latin, Greek, and French by the time he was fourteen. From fourteen to sixteen he was educated at home, attended to by various tutors in music, drawing, dancing, and horsemanship. At the age of twelve he wrote a volume of Byronic verse entitled Incondita, which his parents attempted, unsuccessfully, to have published. In 1825, a cousin gave Browning a collection of Percy Bysshe Shelley ’s poetry; Browning was so taken with the book that he asked for the rest of Shelley's works for his thirteenth birthday, and declared himself a vegetarian and an atheist in emulation of the poet. Despite this early passion, he apparently wrote no poems between the ages of thirteen and twenty.

In 1828, Browning enrolled at the University of London, but he soon left, anxious to read and learn at his own pace. The random nature of his education later surfaced in his writing, leading to criticism of his poems' obscurities. In 1833, Browning anonymously published his first major published work, Pauline, and in 1840 he published Sordello, which was widely regarded as a failure. He also tried his hand at drama, but his plays, including Strafford, which ran for five nights in 1837, and the Bells and Pomegranates series, were for the most part unsuccessful. Nevertheless, the techniques he developed through his dramatic monologues—especially his use of diction, rhythm, and symbol—are regarded as his most important contribution to poetry, influencing such major poets of the twentieth century as Ezra Pound , T. S. Eliot , and Robert Frost . After reading Elizabeth Barrett’ s Poems (1844) and corresponding with her for a few months, Browning met her in 1845. They were married in 1846, against the wishes of Barrett's father.

The couple moved to Pisa and then Florence, where they continued to write. They had a son, Robert "Pen" Browning, in 1849, the same year his Collected Poems was published. Elizabeth inspired Robert's collection of poems Men and Women (1855), which he dedicated to her. Now regarded as one of Browning's best works, the book was received with little notice at the time; its author was then primarily known as Elizabeth Barrett's husband. Elizabeth Barrett Browning died in 1861, and Robert and Pen Browning soon moved to London. Browning went on to publish Dramatis Personae (1864), and The Ring and the Book (1868–1869). The latter, based on a seventeenth-century Italian murder trial, received wide critical acclaim, finally earning a twilight of reknown and respect in Browning's career. The Browning Society was founded while he still lived, in 1881, and he was awarded honorary degrees by Oxford University in 1882 and the University of Edinburgh in 1884.

Robert Browning died on the same day that his final volume of verse, Asolando: Fancies and Facts, was published, in 1889.

A Selected Bibliography Asolando: Fancies and Facts (1889) Christmas-Eve and Easter-Day (1850) Complete Poetic and Dramatic Works of Robert Browning (1895) Dramatic Idyls (1879) Dramatic Idyls: Second Series (1880) Ferishtah's Fancies (1884) La Saisiaz, and The Two Poets of Croisicv (1878) Men and Women (1855) New Poems by Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1914) Pacchiarotto and How He Worked in Distemper, with Other Poems (1876) Paracelsus (1835) Parleyings with Certain People of Importance in Their Day (1887) Pauline: A Fragment of a Confession (1833) Red Cotton Night-Cap Country; or, Turf and Towers (1873) Robert Browning: The Poems (1981) Robert Browning: The Ring and the Book (1971) Sordell (1840) The

 Brownings to the Tennysons (1971) The Complete Works of Robert Browning (1898) The Inn Album (1875) The Poetical Works of Robert Browning (1868) The Ring and the Book (1868-1869) The Works of Robert Browning (1912) Two Poems (1854) Browning to His American Friends (1965) Dearest Isa: Browning's Letters to Isa Blagden (1951) Learned Lady: Letters from Robert Browning to Mrs.

Thomas FitzGerald 1876-1889 (1966) Letters of Robert Browning Collected by Thomas J. Wise (1933) New Letters of Robert Browning (1950) Robert Browning and Julia Wedgwood: A Broken Friendship as Revealed in Their Letters (1937) The Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett, 1845-1846 (1969) Thomas Jones, The Divine Order: Sermons (1884) Anthology The Agamemnon of Aeschylus (1877) Drama Aristophanes' Apology (1875) Balaustion's Adventure, Including a Transcript from Euripides (1871) Bells and Pomegranates, No. IV - The Return of the Druses: A Tragedy in Five Acts (1943) Bells and Pomegranates. No. I - Pippa Passes (1841) Bells and Pomegranates. No. II - King Victor and King Charles (1842) Bells and Pomegranates. No.

III - Dramatic Lyrics (1842) Bells and Pomegranates. No. V - A Blot in the 'Scutcheon: A Tragedy in Five Acts (1843) Bells and Pomegranates. No. V - Colombe's Birthday: A Play in Five Acts (1844) Bells and Pomegranates. No. VII - Dramatic Romances & Lyrics (1845) Bells and Pomegranates. No.

VIII - and Last, Luria; and A Soul's Tragedy (1846) Dramatis Personae (1864) Fifine at the Fair (1872) Poems: A New Edition (1849) Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society (1871) Strafford: An Historical Tragedy (1837) Robert Browning , 1812 - 1889 I Hamelin Town's in Brunswick, By famous Hanover city; The river Weser, deep and wide, Washes its wall on the southern side; A pleasanter spot you never spied; But, when begins my ditty, Almost five hundred years ago, To see the townsfolk suffer so From vermin, was a pity. II Rats!

They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladle's, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats. III At last the people in a body To the town hall came flocking: "'Tis clear," cried they, 'our Mayor's a noddy; And as for our Corporation--shocking To think we buy gowns lined with ermine For dolts that can't or won't determine What's best to rid us of our vermin! You hope, because you're old and obese, To find in the furry civic robe ease? Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking To find the remedy we're lacking, Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!" At this the Mayor and Corporation Quaked with a mighty consternation.

IV An hour they sat in council, At length the Mayor broke silence: "For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell, I wish I were a mile hence! It's easy to bid one rack one's brain-- I'm sure my poor head aches again, I've scratched it so, and all in vain Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!" Just as he said this, what should hap At the chamber door but a gentle tap? "Bless us,' cried the Mayor, "what's that?" (With the Corporation as he sat, Looking little though wondrous fat; Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister Than a too-long-opened oyster, Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous For a plate of turtle, green and glutinous) "Only a scraping of shoes on the mat? Anything like the sound of a rat Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!" V "Come in!"--the Mayor cried, looking bigger: And in did come the strangest figure!

His queer long coat from heel to head Was half of yellow and half of red And he himself was tall and thin, With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin, But lips where smiles went out and in-- There was no guessing his kith and kin! And nobody could enough admire The tall man and his quaint attire. Quoth one: "It's as if my great-grandsire, Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone, Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!" 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 check; And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying As if impatient to be playing Upon this 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 swarm of gnats; I eased in Asia the Nizam Of a monstrous brood of vampyre-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 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, gray 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 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 butter-casks: And it seemed as if a voice (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery Is breathed) called out, 'Oh rats, rejoice! The world is grown to one vast dry-saltery! So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!' And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon, All ready staved, like a great sun shone Glorious scarce an inch before me, Just as methought it said 'Come bore me!' -- I found the Weser rolling o'er me." VIII You should have heard the Hamelin people Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.

Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles! Poke out the nests and block up the holes! Consult with carpenters and builders And leave in our town not even a trace Of the rats!"-- when suddenly, up the face Of the Piper perked in the market-place, With a, "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!" IX A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue; So did the Corporation too. For council dinners made rare havoc With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; And half the money would replenish Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish. To pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gypsy coat of red and yellow! "Beside," quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink, "Our business was done at the river's brink; We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, And what's dead can't come to life, I think. So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink From the duty of giving you something for drink, And a matter of money to put in your poke; But as for the guilders, what we spoke Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.

Beside, our losses have made us thrifty. A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty! X The Piper's face fell, and he cried, "No trifling! I can't wait! Beside, I've promised to visit by dinnertime 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 to 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-- And 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 water's 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 was lame, And could not dance the whole of the way; And in after years, if you would blame His sadness, he was used to say,-- "It's dull in our town since my playmates left! I can't forget that I'm bereft Of all the pleasant sights they see, Which the Piper also promised me.

For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, Joining the town and just at hand, Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew, And flowers put forth a fairer hue, And everything was strange and new; The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, And their dogs outran our fallow deer, And honey-bees had lost their stings, And horses were born with eagles' wings: And just as I became assured My lame foot would be speedily cured, The music stopped and I stood still, And found myself outside the hill, Left alone against my will, To go now limping as before, And never hear of that country more! XIV Alas, alas for Hamelin! There came into many a burgher's pate A text which says that heaven's gate Opens to the rich at as easy rate As the needle's eye takes a camel in! The mayor sent East, West, North and South, To offer the Piper, by word of mouth Wherever it was men's lot to find him, Silver and gold to his heart's content, If he'd only return the way he went, And bring the children behind him.

But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor, And Piper and dancers were gone forever, They made a decree that lawyers never Should think their records dated duly If, after the day of the month and year, These words did not as well appear: "And so long after what happened here On the twenty-second of July, Thirteen hundred and seventy-six;" And the better in memory to fix The place of the children's last retreat, They called it the Pied Piper's Street, Where any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labor. Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern To shock with mirth a street so solemn, But opposite the place of the cavern They wrote the story on a column, And on the great church-window painted The same, to make the world acquainted How their children were stolen away, And there it stands to this very day.

And I must not omit to say That, in Transylvania there's a tribe Of alien people who ascribe To the outlandish ways and dress On which their neighbors lay such stress, To their fathers and mothers having risen Out of some subterranean prison Into which they were trepanned Long time ago in a mighty band Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, But how or why they don't understand. XV So, Willy, let you and me be wipers Of scores out with all men--especially pipers! And, whether they pipe us free, from rats or from mice, If we've promised them ought, let us keep our promise. This poem is in the public domain. This poem is in the public domain. Robert Browning Although playwright and poet Robert Browning was slow to receive acclaim for his work, his later work earned him renown and respect in his career, and the techniques he developed through his dramatic monologues—especially his use of diction, rhythm, and symbol—are regarded as his most important contribution to poetry, influencing such major poets of the twentieth century as Ezra Pound , T. S. Eliot , and ...

The Pied Piper Biography (Legendary Character) Birthplace: Germany Best known as: Flute-playing charmer of German folk tales As described in an old German folktale, the Pied Piper is a mysterious wanderer who agrees to rid the town of Hamelin of a plague of rats. He enchants the rats by playing a magical flute and then leads them into the nearby river Weser, where they drown. But when the city fathers go back on their promise to pay him handsomely for his work, the piper exacts revenge by playing his flute for the town's children and leading them away into a mountain cavern, where they disappear forever. The tale seems to have grown out of a mysterious real-life event: the details have long since been forgotten, but an ancient plaque in the town of Hamelin says that on June 26, 1284, a piper in colorful clothing lured 130 children from the town.

Various versions of the folk tale were gathered by the The Brothers Grimm in 1812, and the story was retold by Robert Browning in 1842 in his poem "The Pied Piper of Hamelin." In modern times, "Pied Piper" has come to mean any charismatic person who attracts an enthusiastic following. Extra credit: In Germany, the city is known as Hameln and the Pied Piper is known as der Rattenfänger, or the Ratcatcher... "Pied" refers to the piper's multicolored clothing. Copyright © 1998-2017 by Who2?, LLC. All rights reserved. Advertisement Advertisement

Question: 'The Pied Piper of Hamlin' got rid of the rats by leading them into which river?
Answer: WESER