ing with fear of the army of rats
that were approaching. They had swum over the river, climbed the shore,
and were scaling the walls of his tower by thousands. The bishop, half
dead with fright, fell on his knees, and began counting his beads. The
rats soon gained the room, fell upon the bishop, and in a short time
nothing was left of him but his bones.

"There is an account of it in poetry too, in my book," said Mr. George.

"Read it to us," said Minnie.

So Mr. George opened his book, and read the account in poetry, as
follows:--

BISHOP HATTO.

The summer and autumn had been so wet,
That in winter the corn was growing yet;
'Twas a piteous sight to see all around
The grain lie rotting on the ground.

Every day the starving poor
Crowded around Bishop Hatto's door,
For he had a plentiful last year's store;
And all the neighborhood could tell
His granaries were furnished well.

At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day
To quiet the poor without delay:
He bade them to his great barn repair,
And they should have food for the winter there.

Rejoiced at such tidings good to hear,
The poor folk flocked from far and near;
The great barn was full as it could hold
Of women and children, and young and old.

Then, when they saw it could hold no more,
Bishop Hatto he made fast the door;
And while for mercy on Christ they call,
He set fire to the barn, and burned them all.

"I' faith 'tis an excellent bonfire!" quoth he,
"And the country is greatly obliged to me
For ridding it, in these times forlorn,
Of rats that only consume the corn."

So then to his palace returned he,
And he sat down to supper merrily,
And he slept that night like an innocent man;
But Bishop Hatto never slept again.

In the morning, as he entered the hall
Where his picture hung against the wall,
A sweat like death all o'er him came,
For the rats had eaten it out of the frame.

As he looked there came a man from his farm;
He had a countenance white with alarm.
"My lord, I opened your granaries this morn,
And the rats had eaten all your corn."

Another came running presently,
And he was pale as pale could be:
"Fly, my lord bishop, fly," quoth he;
"Ten thousand rats are coming this way;
The Lord forgive you for yesterday."

"I'll go to my tower on the Rhine," replied he