ed out scornfully to his advisers, "Listen! how
the mice are squeaking among the corn. This eternal begging is at an
end at last. May the mice bite me if it is not true!"

But the punishment which Heaven sent him was terrible. Thousands of
mice came out of the burning barn, made their way to the palace,
filled every chamber and corner, and at last attacked the bishop
himself. His servants killed them by hundreds, but their numbers
seemed only to increase, as did their ferocity also. The bishop was
seized with horror and, anticipating God's punishment, he fled from
the town and went on board a boat hoping to defend himself from his
terrible pursuers. But the innumerable horde swam in legions after
him, and when he reached his tower on the island thinking at least he
would be safe there, the mice followed him, gnawing the tower and
tearing for themselves an entrance with their sharp teeth, till at
last they reached him whom they sought. The cruel man was devoured by
the mice, which attacked him by scores. In his despair he offered his
soul to the Evil One, if he would release his body from such awful
agony. The Evil Spirit came, freed his body, but took his soul away
for himself.

Thus runs the legend. History however speaks less severely of Hatto,
the imperious prelate.

* * * * *

His great ambition was his desire of power. He was the founder of the
temporal power which the seat of Mayence obtained, and which later on
made it the first bishopric of the kingdom, but he was always hated by
the citizens, who suffered much owing to his proud, despotic
character.

It is true that he was the founder of the toll which ships in olden
times were obliged to pay on the Rhine, so that this fact and many
other cruel exactions of his, have helped to evolve the terrible
legend of the Mouse-Tower.

THE VALLEY OF THE NAHE

KREUZNACH

A mighty draught

Once upon a time in the high castle called Rheingrafenstein near
Kreuznach, the flower of the knights belonging to the Rhine country
were assembled.

They were powerful warriors, these nobles of ancient rank, but the
most prominent among them was the host himself, the proud Rhine Count.
Many a cup had he already emptied to the health of his distinguished
guests, and rising up once more from his richly carved chair he cast a
look over the brilliant assembly and said in a boastful tone:

"I have got a knight's high boot here, my noble lo