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 honeybees had lost their stings;
And horses were born with eagle's 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, 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 't was 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 always 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 StreetWhere 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 had 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. In Transylvania there is 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.

XLV.

DANIEL DEFOE AND HIS BOOKS.

ANY years ago (1661–1731), in England, there lived

MANY

a man named Daniel Defoe, who wrote stories so

real that many people believed them to be true.

Years be

fore Defoe lived, there had occurred in the city of London a terrible disease, known as the Plague, through which many people lost their lives; and so terrible was the fear of it that every one who could, left the city.

Defoe wrote a book that pretended to be a journal written by some one living in London during the Plague. It told all about the disease, and the various terrible things that happened, in such a way that people believed his account of it to be a true record.

Defoe is sometimes called the first English novelist, because he was the first writer who wrote stories that are really like the novels written to-day. He wrote one book, of which everybody has heard, and which many of you boys and girls have read. Those who have not read it, should do so. This book is called "Robinson Crusoe."

A man named Alexander Selkirk was once put ashore upon an island in the Pacific Ocean, at his own request, and lived there alone for several years. Defoe is supposed to have taken this man as the hero of his novel.

A poet, William Cowper, the same one who wrote "The Nose and the Eyes," which you have already read in this reader, wrote a poem about Alexander Selkirk, in which the man is supposed to describe his own feelings upon finding himself alone upon a desert island. It is given here, and you can see if you think you would have such feelings

as it describes if you were cast away as he was. Following the poem, is an extract from "Robinson Crusoe." In the first part of the story is given an account of the hero's early life, and of the voyage and shipwreck. The extracts here given tell how Crusoe was saved from the sea after the shipwreck, how he made himself a home upon the island and employed his time, of the coming of his man Friday, and his final rescue by an English vessel.

XLVI. VERSES.

SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK DURING HIS SOLITARY ABODE IN THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ.

I

BY WILLIAM COWPER.

AM monarch of all I survey,

My right there is none to dispute;
From the center all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O Solitude! where are the charms

That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place.

I am out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone;
Never hear the sweet music of speech-
I start at the sound of my own!
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,

Their tameness is shocking to me.