So Mr. George began to relate the story as follows:—
"There was a famine coming on at one time during Bishop Hatto's life, and the people were becoming very destitute, though the bishop's granaries were well supplied with corn. The poor flocked and crowded around his door. At last the bishop appointed a time when, he told them, they should have food for the winter, if they would repair to his great barn. Young and old, from far and near, did so, and when the barn could hold no more, he made fast the door, and set fire to it, and burned them all. He then returned to his palace, congratulating himself that the country was rid of the 'rats,' as he called them. He ate a good supper, went to bed, and slept like an innocent man; but he never slept again. In the morning, when he entered a room where hung his picture, he found it entirely eaten by rats. Presently a man came and told him that the rats had entirely consumed his corn; and while the man was telling him this, another man came running, pale as death, to tell him that ten thousand rats were coming. 'I'll go to my tower on the Rhine,' said the bishop; ''tis the safest place in Germany.' He immediately hastened to the shore, and crossed to his tower, and very carefully barred all the doors and windows. After he had retired for the night, he had hardly closed his eyes, when he heard a fearful scream. He started up, and saw the cat sitting by his pillow, screaming 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.