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Hello. Welcome to Stories Podcast. I'm your host, Amanda Weldon. Today's story is a throwback episode. Tune in to hear one of our classic stories from the archive that you might have missed the first time around. We have Stories Podcast merch, available@storiespodcast.com shop. We're also on cameo for all of your personalized video message needs. And don't forget to follow us on Instagram Stories Podcast. If you send us a drawing of your favorite scene or character, we'll share it on our feed. Now, here's a word from our sponsors. Thanks. Enjoy the episode the Pied Piper of Hamelin Once upon a time, nestled into the gentle bend of a lazy river, there was a little village called Hamelin. The people there lived happy lives. They would fish and they would farm, and the kids would run through the fields after school, playing tag among the swaying maze of cornstalks. It was a perfect little village until one chill fall day, the rats came. Why or where from? No one could say. One day they were just there, flowing into the village like a furry gray stream. They weren't the friendly sort of rats that some people keep as pets either. They were big and mean and mangy, with cloudy red eyes and sour smelling fur. They poured into homes and nibbled away all the food. They poured into factories and nibbled away all the supplies. They even poured into bedrooms and made people sick with swollen necks. Before the people of Hamelin could react to, life in their quiet little village was nearly ruined. They soon called a meeting of the village's leaders. They were a council of elders led by a cunning old mayor. Once the meeting was called to order, they decided to pool their money and hire some rat catchers. Experts who came to small villages like Hamelin, trapped unwanted rodents and took them away. All in favor? Asked the mayor. Aye, everyone replied. And the next day, much like the rats before them, a swarm of rat catchers descended on the city. Armed with cages and traps and bait and poison and nets, they began their work. They trapped rats in the kitchens. They bagged rats in the factories. They scooped them up by the dozens in their nets. And at the end of the day, when their work was done, there were more rats than ever before. What is this? Cried the mayor. How is this possible? The head rat catcher, a grizzled old woman with a leather patch over one eye, just shrugged. Pardon me lord, but these UN's, they ain't no way no normal rats, if you understand me. Everyone we catch seems like a gaggle more a comin taking their Place. There's some magic to these rats, if you can understand that. Truth be told, small than me and the crew can handle. You need somethin else. You need somethi altogether. What is it? Said the mayor. What do we need? A miracle. You need a miracle, Mr. Mayor. And with that, the ratcatchers left the village. The mayor and his council met again and tried to think of a new plan. They argued all day and they argued all night. They sent out runners in every direction to beg nearby villages for help. And then they argued some more. And meanwhile, while all that arguing was taking place, the rats multiplied. You couldn't open a cabinet in Hamelin without a dozen rats leaping out. You couldn't draw water from the well without half the bucket being swimming, shrieking rodents. It got so bad the people were beginning to pack up, thinking they'd have to abandon their village to the rats. But then the Pied Piper came. He burst into the council chambers as they were arguing. Tall he was, with long arms and legs and a round pot belly. He dressed head to toe in flowing streams of rainbow silk. The colors alternated wildly in a crazy pattern. In his hands was a strange looking instrument. It was as though someone had married a flute to a fishhook. Long and slender and studded with holes with a great J shape at the end. The mayor took one look at this wildly dressed man and began to sputter. What is the meaning of this? Who are you? This is a private meeting. The Pied Piper merely smiled and doffed his rainbow striped slouching hat. Hello. Hello, my Hamelin chum. You called for help and help has come. I see you're overwhelmed by rats, all evil eyed with sour mats. Well, rest easy cause I've seen your letter. And for rat catchers there is no better. I'll rid you of your problem fast. I'll rid you of these rats at last. I merely seek a modest pay. A thousand guilders to save the day. So what? Say, do you need a sniper? The ratcatcher they call Pied Piper. The mayor and the council looked at one another. Taken aback by the colorful man and his strange sing song way of speaking. They grouped together to discuss. A thousand guilders was no small sum, but it was either that or abandoned their village to the rats. After a few minutes of excited whispering, they made their decision. All right, Pied Piper, the mayor said. We accept your offer. Of course, other ratcatchers have failed us, so we will only pay once. You have succeeded in getting rid of all the rats. Do you agree? The Pied Piper bowed with A flourish of his hat. I accept your deal. It seems quite fair. Now watch is without rope or snare, I make your village road and free and cure you of this misery. You're going to do it now? Don't you need time to prepare? No time like now, no day like today. Now watch and learn. And please make way. With that, the Pied Piper walked out into the village square, which was, by this point, teeming with rats. They scurried this way and that, carrying bits of food or stolen treasures for their nests. The Pied Piper gave the rodents a disgusted look, shook his head, and then raised his strange pipe to his lips. He blew softly, and his hand slid over the instrument, and he began to play a strange melody, neither fast nor slow, neither low nor high. It seemed to warble and chirp and rumble and whistle. The villagers found it unpleasant, but the rats all stopped and turned to look, their blurry red eyes focusing on the Piper and their sour furred bodies going still as statues. Then, with a strange skip in his step and never missing a note of his song, the Piper began to walk away from the town. The rats followed. They poured from homes and they scuttled from factories, and they pulled themselves dripping from the well and. And they flowed in a dirty stream from every corner of the village. And soon the Pied Piper was skipping at the head of a herd of rats. It was such a strange parade that the people of Hamelin could only stare, mouths hanging open. The Piper led them through the streets and through the fields and into the mountains beyond. And quick as that, there wasn't a single rat left in all of Hamelin. The people yelled and cheered and hugged and threw such a party that the village was still recovering. Come the next morning, when the Pied Piper strolled back into town, pipe on his shoulder and a smile on his lips, he roused the mayor and the council and presented himself before them. As you can see, I'm a man of my word. The rats are all gone, the whole fuzzy herd. Now, please, my guilders and I'll hit the road. I've places to be and songs to be sold. Now. The mayor and the council had been thinking about this. They had collected the guilders from everyone in the village. And since a thousand guilders was quite a lot of money, they had decided on a very unkind and greedy plan. Well, Piper, said the mayor, it seems to me that the rats are already gone. Why should we pay you now? A deal's a deal. I have your word? Will you? That's quite enough of your rhymes. Pied Piper, let this be a lesson to you. Get your guilders in advance. It's good advice, and this will have to be payment enough. Now get out of our village. The piper's face turned dark. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead snapped it shut and stomped away. He left the village, and the mayor and his councillors congratulated each other. They'd solved the rat problem and kept the villagers gilders as well. And for a single quiet day, all was well in the village. The morning after that, though, the village awoke to a strange melody floating in the air. It was neither fast nor slow, neither low nor high. It seemed to warble and chirp and rumble and whistle. They whispered to one another, Ze Pied Piper. Ze Pied Pipa's song. The Pied Piper. Sure enough, soon the rainbow striped man could be seen on the horizon, hat cocked on his head and strange hooked pipe to his lips. And behind him, the rats. There were more than ever a sea of rats, an ocean of rats. A great surging tide of endless rats that swarmed at his back and flowed over each other, shrieking and chittering and flowing ever forward. No. Cried a woman standing by the mayor. Why would he do this? We paid him his guilders. The mayor turned bright red, and those around him turned, storms brewing on their faces. We paid him, didn't we? The woman asked. Well, ah. No. Meanwhile, the piper drew closer, rats marching at his heels. People. Cried the woman. The mayor and our council never paid the piper. And so he is undoing the work he has done. The villagers, seeing the approaching wave of rats, started to call out at their leaders. Pay the piper. Save us. Pay what is owed. Your greed will doom us. Pay. Pay the piper. At the edge of town, the piper paused his melody and called out, hamelin Village, I have returned. I've brought your rats for payments. Burned. You want them back? I've brought the load, or you can pay me what is owed. The people rushed into the mayor's home and found the guilders they had collected in a sack hidden in his closet. Quick as they could, they brought it to the edge of town and threw it at the piper's feet. Please, said the woman. We've all pitched in to pay. Don't punish us for our leader's greed. The Pied Piper smiled at her and slung the bag of guilders over his shoulder. He gave the villagers a wink. Thank you for the payment, though it was late. I'll save you from your rat drowned fate. Just remember all you've heard. A deal's a deal. So keep your word. With that, he picked up his pipe and began to play his strange melody again. The rats stopped their march towards the village and streamed behind the rainbow dressed man, and with a skip in his step and a jingle of gilders, he led them all away, and Hamelin village never saw man nor rats again. The End Today's Story the Pied Piper of Hamelin was an adaptation of an old folk tale written by Daniel Hines and performed for you by me, Amanda Weldon. If you would like to support Stories Podcast, you can leave us a five star review on itunes. Check out all of our merch available@storiespodcast.com Shop Commission a special video on Cameo, Follow us on Instagram Stories Podcast or simply tell your friends about us. Thanks for listening. Autumn is in full swing and IXL helps keep homeschooling lessons structured and steady. Whether you're following a set curriculum or creating your own, IXL is an award winning online learning platform that fits seamlessly into homeschooling, especially this time of year. It offers interactive practice across math, language arts, science and social studies for every grade from Pre K through 12. IXL adapts to your child's level and gives them the right challenge at the right time. Whether your kid is reviewing third grade math or jumping into sixth grade reading, IXL meets them where they are and lets them move at their own pace. And it keeps kids motivated between the awards, challenges and little moments of celebration, IXL makes it easy to keep learning light and engaging. 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