Mitz and Fritz of Germany

The Toymaker family journeyed through Hanau (Hä´nou), home of the Grimm brothers. The children spoke of these two devoted men, who had always worked together. Some of their stories have become famous, as, for instance, "Hansel and Gretel" and "Tom Thumb."

The family moved on toward Frankfurt.

The five Rothschild brothers had lived in Frankfurt. They had become the richest men in Europe and were called "The Five Frankfurters." Mrs. Toymaker remembered that the great poet, Goethe, had been born there.

Mitzi hoped to eat her fill of sausages. Frankfurt is supposed to be the home of the "hot dog." But she had more important hopes than eating "hot dogs." She was going to carry out her plan for Fritz's concert when they reached Mainz.

CHAPTER VI

MAINZ AND A BEGGAR

"Come quickly, Fritz. Now, we can slip away!" said Mitzi.

They were in the market place of Mainz. Their father was sitting at a booth under a striped umbrella. He was selling a few toys, and he looked more cheerful than usual.

Mitzi led her brother down the street.

"Quickly, come! We shall stand here before this big church," she said.

They had stopped in front of a beautiful old cathedral. Near by stood the statue of a man holding a sheet of paper in his hands.

"That is the statue of Gutenberg (Go͞o´tĕn-bĕrk), the inventor of printing," said Mitzi.

Fritz could not help thinking, just then, of all the great men who have come out of Germany. There was this Gutenberg, born here in Mainz. There was Professor Einstein (Īn´stīn), the famous scientist, born in Ulm. There was —

"Fritz! Fritz!" His sister was stamping her foot and screaming until she was almost purple in the face. "Will you listen?" she cried. "What are you thinking of? Come now! Stop dreaming and play your violin!"

Fritz had to laugh at her stern round face and her sharp command.

He saluted and said, "Yes, yes, General! I obey."

Then he took up his violin and began to play. Several people stopped to listen. They smiled but passed on. Mitzi stood on one foot and then on the other. Frank lay at her feet, wondering why they did not go on to explore this strange new city. Fritz played and Mitz stood, and only a few people seemed to notice them. Among these was a gentleman who put his hand into his pocket.

"Catch!" he said to Mitzi, as he threw her a coin.

After some time, Fritz grew tired and Mitzi discouraged.

"Let us go and buy sausage with this coin," said Mitzi.

She was not altogether pleased with the way things had worked out. But, anyway, she wanted to surprise her father with the small bit they had been able to make.

They turned to leave, when all at once they heard a whining sound behind them. They looked around. Sitting upon the church steps was a beggar. He wore ragged clothes and was a very old man. He held out his hand to Mitz and Fritz.

He said, "I am a beggar and I am hungry. Will you give me your coin?"

He looked miserable. Mitzi felt sorry for him. But still she thought of her father's pleasure if she should return home with sausages.

She thought how she would say to her father, "It was Fritz's music that did it."

But Fritz was tugging at her sleeve.

"Give it to him," said the boy. "See! He is very old."

Mitzi put her hand into the pocket of her little apron and pulled out the precious coin. She looked at it lovingly, then she threw it to the old man.

"Come along, Fritz," she said.

The children turned away and left a happy beggar behind.

CHAPTER VII

DOWN THE RHINE AND TROUBLES

Mr. Toymaker felt almost jolly. He counted the money he had made and chuckled.

"At last our luck has changed," he said. "I have really sold some toys. Now, let us go on. Let us wander down the Rhine and stop at friendly fairs along the way."

Mitzi was not so pleased with her day.

"Still we shall not give up," she said to Fritz. "At the next large town you must give another concert. Only we shall take care this time that there are no beggars about!"

The family left Mainz and started along the shore of the most famous river in all the world. England has her river Thames (Tĕmz). France is proud of the Seine (Sān). Italy loves the Tiber. Russia sings of the Volga. In Austria it is the Danube. But the River Rhine is dear to Germany.

Castles on every hill have ancient legends. The Toymaker family gazed upon beautiful, vine-covered hillsides and villages where people live by the making of wine. The Rhine land is a wine land. Some of the best wines in the world come from here.

Mitz and Fritz thought of the stories of Siegfried (Sēg´frēd), that great hero of Wagner's operas, "Siegfried" and "The Twilight of the Gods." In the Rhine land Siegfried was born.

They thought of Charlemagne (Shär´lē̍-mān), that mighty conqueror, who lies sleeping in this land. They thought of dragons, of buried treasure, of brave heroes, of secret caves. The Rhine country is full of such thoughts.

Then they came to Bingen (Bĭnḡ´ĕn).

"The Mouse Tower!" cried Mitzi.

"Tell us the story, please, Mother!" said Fritz.

The children had heard this tale many times. But never before had they heard it told while they were looking at the old tower. It stood in the center of the river.

"Long ago," began Mrs. Toymaker, "there lived a cruel bishop. When the poor people were starving, he bought all the grain in the land.

He locked it up in his barn. The hungry villagers came to steal the grain. While they were in the barn, the bishop set fire to it.

"He said, 'These people deserve to die. They are like mice stealing from a granary.'

"But soon he was punished for his wickedness. One day thousands of mice broke into his tower and ate him up. That is why this is called the Mouse Tower."

Said Fritz, "He deserved to be eaten!"

Said Mitz, "I wonder how a bishop would taste to a rat."

"Mitz! Mitz!" laughed Mrs. Toymaker. "What strange ideas you have!"

Yet Mrs. Toymaker could hardly guess what strange things Mitzi was really going to do. Even Fritz did not know. Indeed, Mitzi herself was unaware of all that lay before her.

The Toymakers traveled along the Rhine.

They passed the beautiful rock of the Lorelei and Mrs. Toymaker told Mitz and Fritz the famous legend of the beautiful maiden who sat upon the rock combing her golden hair. She sang and called to passing ships, and her voice was so beautiful that fishermen and sailors tried to reach the rock but they were always dashed to pieces on the reefs at the foot of the cliffs.

Mitz and Fritz loved this story.

The Toymakers stopped at one or two small towns. But Mr. Toymaker sold no toys. Again he grew worried. They passed happy people bathing in the river. Gay bath-houses dot the shores. Bathers bake themselves in the sun and rest beside the river.

"There is never any rest for me," sighed poor Mr. Toymaker.

"Perhaps, when we reach Coblenz (kō´blĕnts), you will sell more toys," said his wife.

"When we reach Coblenz," murmured Mitzi to Fritz, "you are to give another concert."

When they arrived in Coblenz, Mitzi said, "Come along, now, Fritz. This is our chance."

A short time later, Mr. Toymaker looked about and could not find Fritz and Mitzi.

"Where are the children?" he asked. "They are always running off."

"They have gone to the town," answered Mrs. Toymaker.

"I did not tell them they could go," said Mr. Toymaker. "What are they up to? They should stay and help me with my work."

"But they finished their work," said Mrs. Toymaker.

Mr. Toymaker grunted. He would surely have grunted more angrily had he seen what his children were doing at that moment. Fritz was standing in a far corner of the market square, playing his violin. Mitzi was standing by his side.

Coblenz is a city of manufacturing and similar industries. The fortress across the river was occupied by American soldiers after the World War. Sometimes in a quiet city people are not much hurried. Therefore they give heed to pleasant sounds. Coblenz has been a quiet city since the soldiers left.

Mitzi eagerly watched the passers-by. She smiled as Fritz played. The little dog Frank wagged his tail happily. Then he fell asleep on the sidewalk.

Soon a large number of people gathered. They stood listening.

One said to another, "The boy plays well. He is a real musician."

Several coins were thrown.

"I am right!" thought Mitzi. Her heart pounded with delight. "People will pay to hear my Fritz's music. They will!"

When the day was almost done, Fritz stopped playing. Mitzi showed him the money they had made.

"See," she said. "Enough coins to make even Father smile! Come. Let us give them to Father. How pleased he will be!"

"Now, perhaps, he will like my playing," said Fritz.

They hurried toward their wagon, where they found Mr. Toymaker very much annoyed.

"Why did you run away and not tell me where you were going?" he demanded.

Mitzi held out the money.

"See, Father," she said. "See what Fritz's music has brought!"

Mr. Toymaker looked at the coins in Mitzi's hand. Then he looked at the happy face of the little girl. And then he turned to Fritz, who was smiling at him.

"You are a very naughty boy!" he said.

The smile left Fritz's face. Mitzi caught her father's arm.

"But, Father," she said. "You don't understand. Fritz did nothing wrong. He only played his violin when he had finished the work you gave him. He played in the town, and people threw coins because they liked his music."

"What?" cried Mr. Toymaker. "Do you tell me that people paid to hear a boy scratching upon a fiddle? It is not true! Fritz has stolen this money!"

"Father!" gasped Fritz.

His face had gone white. Mitzi's eyes became two round bowls.

"Oh, Father, no!" she cried. "Fritz would never steal, and neither would I!"

"Do not say another word," commanded Mr. Toymaker. "You cannot make me believe this story. A boy's fiddling cannot more money than I can make in a week selling toys. No, you have stolen. And I will not have it."

Mrs. Toymaker tried to make him believe Mitz and Fritz. But Mr. Toymaker was very stubborn.

"They are naughty children," he said to his wife. "Mitzi is always doing things she should not do. It was she who put the boy up to it. They must be made to obey! Tonight they shall go to bed without any supper."

Fritz cried himself to sleep that night. Mitzi tried to comfort him. To be accused of stealing! That was worse than having to go to bed without supper.

"We'll show Father, Fritz," Mitzi said bravely. "You'll see."

Still her heart was heavy.

"He will never believe me," said Fritz. "If only he would let me play for him! And now he thinks that I am a thief!"

Poor, honest little Fritz!

CHAPTER VIII

BONN AND BEETHOVEN

"Please, Fritz, do not look so sad," pleaded Mitzi.

They had arrived near the town of Bonn (Bō̍n) on the Rhine. In the distance they could see the buildings of a large university.

Fritz had not smiled since their terrible experience in Coblenz. Now, however, Mitzi hoped to cheer him.

"See, Fritz," she said. "We are in the town of Beethoven (Bā´tō-vĕn)."

At the sound of this name Fritz's eyes brightened. Beethoven was one of the greatest musicians that ever lived.

"I have asked Father to let us wander through the streets," said Mitzi. "We may even go to the house where Beethoven was born. Come, Fritz."

The boy and girl started off together for the pretty little village.

Later, Mr. and Mrs. Toymaker set off for the market place to sell their wares.

"I do wish you would listen to Fritz's playing," said Mrs. Toymaker, as they walked along. "He has been so unhappy since that day you scolded him. Perhaps, after all, our son may be a real musician."

"Say no more about that," growled Mr. Toymaker. "I'll have no idle musicians in my family. Look at all the starving tune makers in the world! They cannot even support themselves. No! Music is foolish!"

"But," said Mrs. Toymaker, "you forget that Beethoven – "

"He was different!" snapped Mr. Toymaker. "We cannot all be geniuses!"

So what could poor Mrs. Toymaker say? Often the good lady had wondered why it was that her husband wanted Fritz to make toys. Surely the making of toys had not proved a happy trade for Mr. Toymaker! But it was very difficult to argue with him, so his wife did not try.

The children visited Beethoven's house. It is now a museum. In it are such relics as the musician's letters, his piano, and even his ear trumpets. For Beethoven became deaf. Imagine such a thing as a deaf composer! Yet this wonderful man composed some of his most beautiful music even after he could not hear.

"I have read many things about Beethoven," said Fritz to Mitzi. "But the part I like to read about is when he was a boy."

Then Fritz told his sister some of the things he had read: "One night when Ludwig was asleep, his father came home and woke him up. He stood at this very gate and called, 'Up, up, Ludwig, and play!' His father kept him at the piano all night long. Next day Ludwig was so tired that he could not keep awake at school."

"Why did his father do that?" asked Mitzi indignantly.

"Because," answered Fritz, "he wanted Ludwig to be a great pianist and give concerts."

There is a statue of Beethoven in the main square of Bonn. In Germany a statue is called a "denkmal," which means a "think over." As Mitz and Fritz looked upon this "think over," they thought over many things.

"It seems strange," sighed Mitzi, "that Ludwig's father forced him to play, while your father forbids you to."

Fritz laughed.

"You silly!" he said. "I am not Ludwig van Beethoven."

Mitzi began to look like a fierce young lion. She really could look that way sometimes.

"No," she said, "but you are Fritz! And you can play the violin more beautifully than any other boy in the world."

"Oh, Mitz, what are you saying?" laughed her brother.

But Mitzi was firm.

"One day we shall see," she said.

Mr. Toymaker sold enough toys that day to buy dinner. Next day the family started off again along the Rhine.

Then, after many long days of traveling, the Toymakers at last reached the town of Hamelin. This is the scene of the Pied Piper tale. It is where something remarkable is supposed to have happened to children years and years ago. Hamelin is also the place where something really did happen to Mitzi.

CHAPTER IX

MITZI IN HAMELIN

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:

"And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,

And after him the children pressed."

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.

"His queer long coat from heel to headWas half of yellow and half of red,And he himself was tall and thin,With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin."

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.

CHAPTER X

STRÖBECK AND DISGRACE

The family were wandering through the Harz (Härts) 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 pass 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 scraps were pink, it must be admitted. Some of her yellow scraps were white. But this did not bother Mitzi.

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.

In September there was to be an important fair in the city of Leipzig (Līp´sĭk). Mr. Toymaker determined to be there. But until then they would be obliged to wander.

One day they approached the town of Ströbeck.

"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."

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 Ströbeck. 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 Ströbeck 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. "Ströbeck 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.

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."