Mitz and Fritz of Germany - Part 8
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Part 8

"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.

CHAPTER X

STRoBECK AND DISGRACE

The family were wandering through the Harz (Harts) Mountains. Mitz and Fritz had never before seen so many trees nor heard such lovely bird songs. Mrs. Toymaker told them about the famous canary birds raised in the Harz Mountains.

"They are considered the finest singers in the world," she said.

The children loved to pa.s.s through tiny villages and see the quaint costumes of the peasants. In large cities the people do not wear costumes. But in mountain hamlets they often wear the dress of their ancestors.

Mitzi was much interested in costumes just now. For Mitzi was making one. She had decided to dress her brother as the Pied Piper. She was collecting every bit of red and yellow goods she could find. She was sewing, sewing, sewing as they drove along. Some of her red sc.r.a.ps were pink, it must be admitted. Some of her yellow sc.r.a.ps were white. But this did not bother Mitzi.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A BAVARIAN MOUNTAIN VILLAGE]

She was making a Pied Piper cloak for Fritz. She picked up bits of cloth along the way and washed them carefully. She begged and obtained all the rags her mother had. At the tiny windows of their wagon hung yellow curtains. Mitzi longed to use them for her precious cloak.

But when she asked for them, Mrs. Toymaker said, "If you will not tell me what you are doing, surely I cannot let you have them."

But Mitzi would not tell. It was to be a secret between Fritz and herself. When they reached the next large town, Fritz was to put on the cloak. He was to play his violin dressed as the Pied Piper. Mitzi planned to bring Mr. Toymaker to the scene of the concert. She hoped to show him at last that Fritz's music could please people and make them throw money.

Mr. Toymaker was silent and sad. He wondered what would happen to them all if his business did not improve. A gypsy life was not very pleasant, after all. A cosy home was better for a German family.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHILDREN CARRY CHESSBOARDS TO SCHOOL]

In September there was to be an important fair in the city of Leipzig (L[=i]p's[)i]k). Mr. Toymaker determined to be there. But until then they would be obliged to wander.

One day they approached the town of Strobeck.

"Ah," said Mr. Toymaker, "we are in time for the great chess festival.

People who are interested in chess come to this festival from far and near. Let us stop."

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHILDREN PLAYING CHESS]

Mitzi, who was busily sewing, looked up.

"What is chess?" she asked. "Is it like cheese? Is it good to eat?"

Mrs. Toymaker laughed, "No, no, little hungry one! It is a game played on a board like checkers. This town is the only one in the world where children learn chess in school."

"In school?" asked Fritz.

"Yes," said Mrs. Toymaker. "During certain months each child goes to school with his chessboard. Children learn the old game just as you learn arithmetic."

"I think I would like that better than arithmetic," said Fritz.

"But it is a difficult game," said Mrs. Toymaker.

They made their camp near the peaceful town of Strobeck. They noticed some peasant girls tending geese in a field.

"See, Mother," said Mitzi. "They play chess while they watch the geese."

"During the World War," said Mrs. Toymaker, "the Strobeck money was printed with colored chessboards and chessmen upon it."

Later, the family made their way to the public square. The children enjoyed the parade of strangely dressed people. There were kings, queens, bishops and knights marching along. They represented the chessmen with which the game is played. The whole town was in a very gay mood.

Mr. Toymaker sold enough toys to cheer him somewhat. After supper they sat outside their wagon, and Mrs. Toymaker told them all she knew about this strange place.

"Chess is an ancient game," she said. "Strobeck has been playing it for many years. Children begin to learn it when they are still babies. There once lived a boy of seven who became a champion. He even beat the village schoolmaster."

Fritz liked to hear these stories. He listened eagerly. But Mitz had only one thought these days. That thought was the costume for Fritz.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MITZ LOOKED CROOKED]

She had her eye upon the yellow curtains of the wagon. How fine they would be for her purpose! The family traveled further, and all the time Mitzi sewed. Slowly the costume grew, but too slowly for Mitzi.

One day when Mrs. Toymaker returned from the market place, she thought surely her eyes were playing her tricks. The windows of their wagon looked crooked. Then out came Mitzi. And what had happened to Mitzi? She looked crooked, too!

"Mitz, what have you done to the curtains?" asked Mrs. Toymaker.

Before Mitzi could reply, Mrs. Toymaker understood why Mitzi looked crooked. Her little red skirt was hanging in a strange, uneven way. Mrs.

Toymaker inspected the curtains.

"Mitzi!" she said sternly. "You have cut pieces off the top of the curtains and tried to sew them together again."

Mitzi said nothing, but her face was flushed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "YOU NAUGHTY LITTLE GIRL"]

"Oh, Mitz!" continued Mrs. Toymaker. "You have cut pieces off your red skirt and tried to sew it together, too. Now it is hanging all wrong.

You naughty little girl!"

Fritz was out gathering wood for the fire. Mitzi had worked alone and quickly.

"I do not know what you are up to, Mitzi," said her mother. "But you must be punished for this."

So for three days Mitzi was made to stay in the wagon alone. She could not go with the family to market. She had to eat her meals alone. She had to eat black bread and drink water like a prisoner. This was very hard for sausage-loving Mitz. She was in disgrace.