"Because I am going to sell it," said Mr. Toymaker. "It is a fine violin. It will bring much money. Besides, it is quite useless to me.

Give it here."

But neither child moved. Mitz and Fritz stood like two little statues.

"Do you hear me?" cried Mr. Toymaker. "I want the violin. Give it to me."

Still they did not move. They stood looking up at the toy maker like gingerbread children out of "Hansel and Gretel."

Mr. Toymaker reached out his hand to take the violin from Fritz. But the boy put it behind his back.

"Please, please," he said, "don't take it away from me, Father!"

Now Mr. Toymaker really did not want to hurt Fritz any more than he could help. He loved this little fellow, even if he did think the boy to be only an idle, music-loving scamp.

"Fritz," he said in a kinder tone, "you will soon be a man. You must learn to bear disappointments. Come, now! Give me the violin like a good boy."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "PLEASE, FATHER"]

As he spoke, the toy maker took the violin from his son's hands. Then he patted Fritz on the head.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "YOU MUST LEARN TO HELP OTHERS"]

"You must learn to help others, Fritz," he said. "You must, above all, help your father."

Fritz longed to cry out and say, "But that is just what I want to do, Father!"

Only he could not speak. His eyes were full of tears, and when he brushed the tears away, the toy maker was gone. So was the boy's beloved violin!

CHAPTER XVI

THE PIED PIPER

The Toymaker family had sausage and sauerkraut and other good things for supper. They ate their supper beside a camp fire near their wagon. That is, Mr. and Mrs. Toymaker did. But Mitz and Fritz could not eat. No, even Mitz could touch nothing--not even sausage!

Mrs. Toymaker tried to comfort them, but it was hopeless. Fritz stared at the ground, and his heart ached. He thought he should never again play his violin. Mitzi sat with Frank's long nose on her lap and stroked the dog's floppy ears.

"Tomorrow," thought Mitzi, "the crowd will come to the park to hear Fritz play, and there will be no Fritz!"

Of course, Mitzi did not know that the music master would come, too. The kind music master would return. He would look for the little boy whose music had pleased him so much. He would wonder what had happened to the clever youngster whom he wanted to help. Mitzi did not know this. If she had known it, she would have been more unhappy than she already was.

The next morning pa.s.sed much the same as the day before. Mr. Toymaker sold nothing at his booth in the market place.

At noon he said, "There is no use staying here any longer."

He closed up his booth, and they went back to the wagon. After lunch Mr.

and Mrs. Toymaker sat upon the steps of their wagon. They talked and talked about what they were to do.

"We could go to some small town and settle down," said Mrs. Toymaker.

"When winter comes, a wandering life will not be very pleasant. Mitz and Fritz should go to school. This gypsy life is not the best life for them."

[Ill.u.s.tration: SAT UPON THE STEPS OF THEIR WAGON]

Mr. Toymaker said, "That is quite true. Let us find a town where people are not spoiled by fine toys. There we shall settle and be content to live simply."

"I do wish--" began Mrs. Toymaker.

She had started to talk about Fritz. However, she knew that it made Mr.

Toymaker angry. So she stopped.

They sat together for a long time. Mrs. Toymaker knitted. Mr. Toymaker smoked a pipe. Both were so full of serious thoughts that they did not wonder about Mitz and Fritz. They did not wonder why the children had not been there since noon. As the shadows grew longer and a little late breeze blew up, Mrs. Toymaker arose.

"I must prepare supper," she said. "I wonder where the children are."

She called, "Fritz! Mitz!" But there was no answer.

"What is that I see in the distance?" asked Mr. Toymaker.

He shaded his eyes with his hand. He looked in the direction of the setting sun. Mrs. Toymaker looked, too. Black forms were coming toward them. A crowd of people was drawing near, following some one who made music.

"Listen," said Mrs. Toymaker. "The notes of a violin!"

Mr. Toymaker stood up. The music, sweet and lively, came to them more clearly. Slowly the forms of the people grew more distinct as they drew closer.

"Why, it is a Pied Piper!" exclaimed Mrs. Toymaker. "It must be the joke of some children."

But all the time Mrs. Toymaker thought she knew who it was. She thought she knew that it was really--Yes, now there could be no doubt about it!

"It is Fritz!" cried Mrs. Toymaker. "It is our own little Fritz!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE MUSIC MASTER

The strange procession stopped before the wagon of the toy maker. The Pied Piper continued his playing. The crowd stood listening. When the piece was finished, they clapped and threw coins and shouted, "Hoch!"

Then a gentleman carrying a violin case hoisted the Pied Piper upon his shoulder. He walked over with the Pied Piper to where the toy maker stood.

"Sir," said the violin-case gentleman, "I believe this is your son."

Mr. Toymaker was so amazed that he could only nod his head.