But she did not feel at all homesick nor tired nor afraid; for the
Piper's fife seemed to keep them all in excellent spirits, and she
found herself wondering what she would do when they came to the fabled
hill-side,--for she never doubted they would go there. On they went,
faster and faster, the Piper behind them playing all the while.
She saw the broad river; and all the children shouted, "Die Weser."
One little flaxen-haired girl told her they were nearing Hamelin.
"It used to have a big wall around it, with twenty towers and a large
fort; but that was all blown up by the French, years and years ago,"
she explained.
"But it has a chain-bridge," she remarked proudly,--"a chain-bridge
that stretches quite across the Weser."
Doris was just about to say: "Why, that's nothing! We have a huge
suspension bridge in New York;" but the words seemed to twist
themselves into a different form, and the memory of home to melt away,
and she found herself murmuring, "Ach, so?" quite like the rest of the
little Teutons.
But at length the fife ceased playing, and the children stopped.
There they were in quaint old Hamelin, with its odd wooden houses, and
its old Munster that was all falling to ruin, and its rosy-cheeked
children, who did not seem to notice the new-comers at all.
"We must be invisible," thought Doris; and indeed they were.
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