"I think, you've heard this story," the Moon opened the talk after saying Basmalah and Salaam. "Remember a story about 'The Pied Piper,' a short animated film produced by Walt Disney Productions? So, I'm going to tell you, a remake of this German legend.
It was said that more than five hundred years ago, Hamelin Town's in Brunswick, a prosperious port town. The deep and wide river Weser streamed, on the southern side, washes its wall, a most pleasant spot you never see. Barges full of corn would come down the River Weser and unload at Hemelin. 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 townsfolk were so prosperous and busy loading and unloading, milling, baking and eating, they didn't notice all the litter and rubbish, was accumulating on the streets. And of course, with the rubbish, came the Rats, to visit then stayed.These Mr. and Mrs. Rats, brought a grave misfirtune. They fought the dogs and killed the cats, bit the babies in the cradles, ate the cheeses out of the vats, and licked the soup from the cook's own ladles. They split open the kegs of salted sprats, and made nests inside men's Holiday hats, and even spoiled the women's chats, by drowning their speaking, with shrieking and squeking in fifty different sharps and flats.
Something had to be done. People in the body came flocking to the Town Hall, and knocked on the big brass doors of the Town Hall and demanded to know, what the Mayor was doing about the rats 'Tis clear,' they cried, 'Our Mayor is 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 get rid us out of the vermin! Do you think, because you’re old and obese, easily to find in the furry civic robe? 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. For an hour they sate in council. At length, the Mayor broke silence, 'For a guilder I 'd sell my ermine gown, hence I wish I were a mile! It’s easy to bid one rack of one’s brain for I ’m sure my poor head aches again. I ’ve scratched it, and all in vain, just for a trap, a trap, a trap!'
Just as he said this, come about by chance, a gentle tap, coming at the chamber door. 'Bless us,' cried the Mayor, 'What’s that ?' With the Corporation, they looked little, though wondrous fat, nor brighter was his eye, nor moister than a too-long-opened oyster, except 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 come in a strangest figure, with a 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, nobody could enough admire the tall man and his quaint attire. 'It’s as my great-grandsire, starting up at the Trump of Doom’s tone, madly walked this way from his painted tombstone!' said one of them.
He advanced to the council-table and said, 'Please your honours. 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, to follow me so as you never saw! And I chiefly use my charm, on creatures that do people harm, the mole, toad, newt and viper. People called 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 cheque. And at the scarf end, hung a pipe, they noticed his finger were ever straying, as if impatient to be playing. Upon this pipe, there was old fangles, dangled, over his vesture. 'Yes,' said he, 'I am a poor piper. Last June in Tartary, I freed the Cham, from his huge swarms of gnats. In Asia, I cased the Nizam of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats. As for the Rats, let me tell you a story,
Rats actually don't like cheese, they ate cheese because it was convenient, not because they liked it. Rats tend to prefer foods with lots of sugar. Cheese consists of proteins that aren’t usually sweet. That’s why you’re more likely to catch a rat in a trap baited with a small piece of chocolate rather than a hunk of cheese.
The story goes on with another question, 'If Bees could maintain a government, why may not the stronger brain and greater power, the Rats, be thought by Machiavellian Axioms taught as well?'
And so they are, for thus of late, it happened in the Rats’ free state. Their prince had got a mighty Cheshire Cheese, in which his ministers of state might live in plenty and grow great. A powerful party straight combined, and their united forces joined to bring their measures into play, for none so loyal as they were, and none such patriots to support the country as well as the court.
Not sooner were those Dons admitted, all those wond’rous virtues quitted. They all the speediest means devise, to raise themselves and families. Politicians tend to look out for themselves first.
Another party well observing, these were pampered, while they were starving. Their ministry brought in disgrace, expelled them and supplied their place. These on just principles were known as the true supporters of the throne.
And for the subject’s liberty, they’d freely die; but being well fixed in their station, regardless of their state and nation. Just like the others, all their skill was how they might their paunches fill. On this, a Rat not quite so blind in state intrigues as human kind, but of more honour, thus replied, 'Confound ye all on either side. All your contentions are but these, the politicians all set about finding ways to get to the cheese first.'
Today, more foods are easily accessible. That means rats are much more likely to go after things they like, such as sugar and grains. Abd you knew what that meant.
'If I can rid your Town from the Rats,' said the Piper, 'Will you give me a thousand guilders?'
'One? Nay, fifty thousand!' the Major and Corporation exclaimed in astonishment.
The Piper stepped Into the street, with smilining a little smile, as if he knew what magic slept in his quiet pipe for a while. Then, he wrinkled his lips to blow the pipe like a musical adept. His sharp eyes twinkled in green and blue, like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled. And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, you would hear it as if an army muttered. And the muttering grew to a grumbling, the grew to a mighty rumbling, 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 walked doggedly and slowly with heavy steps, unsettled young gay walked in dance.
Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, cocking tails and pricking whiskers. Families by tens and dozens, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives—followed the Piper for their lives. Advancing from street to street he piped, and step for step, they followed dancing, until they came to the river Weser, wherein all plunged and perished!
