ster of the field. He could not get over it.

Nevertheless, he remembered shortly what he had come for to the palace,
and improving the occasion, he set to work to hunt for his dear money.
But in vain he rummaged in all the drawers; he found nothing; all had
been spent.

And ferreting thus from room to room he came at last to the one with the
throne in it, and feeling fatigued, he sat himself down on it to think
over his adventure. In the meanwhile the people had found their King and
his ministers with their feet in the air on the pavement, and they
had gone into the palace to know how it had occurred. On entering the
throne-room, when the crowd saw that there was already someone on the
royal seat, they broke out in cries of surprise and joy:

'The King is dead, long live the King!
Heaven has sent us down this thing.'

Drakestail, who was no longer surprised at anything, received the
acclamations of the people as if he had never done anything else all his
life.

A few of them certainly murmured that a Drakestail would make a fine
King; those who knew him replied that a knowing Drakestail was a more
worthy King than a spendthrift like him who was lying on the pavement.
In short, they ran and took the crown off the head of the deceased, and
placed it on that of Drakestail, whom it fitted like wax.

Thus he became King.

'And now,' said he after the ceremony, 'ladies and gentlemen, let's go
to supper. I am so hungry!'(15)

(15) Contes of Ch. Marelles.

THE RATCATCHER

A VERY long time ago the town of Hamel in Germany was invaded by bands
of rats, the like of which had never been seen before nor will ever be
again.

They were great black creatures that ran boldly in broad daylight
through the streets, and swarmed so, all over the houses, that people
at last could not put their hand or foot down anywhere without touching
one. When dressing in the morning they found them in their breeches and
petticoats, in their pockets and in their boots; and when they wanted a
morsel to eat, the voracious horde had swept away everything from cellar
to garret. The night was even worse. As soon as the lights were out,
these untiring nibblers set to work. And everywhere, in the ceilings,
in the floors, in the cupboards, at the doors, there was a chase and a
rummage, and so furious a noise of gimlets, pincers, and saws, that a
deaf man could not have rested for one hour together.

Neither cats nor dogs, no