"Let me out! Let me out!" cried Mitzi. "I must go to Fritz. Let me out!"
The Piper tried to hold her. She struggled. She kicked. She screamed.
"Stop! Stop! You are hurting me," said the Piper.
"I mean to hurt you!" she cried. "I want to go. I want Fritz."
"Then wake up, you silly," said the Piper. "For I am Fritz!"
She stopped kicking and looked. Yes, the Piper had the face of Fritz. He was Fritz! She rubbed her eyes. How could Fritz be a Pied Piper? Where did he get the cloak? She rubbed her eyes again. This time, when she looked, the Piper was not there any more, but only Fritz and her mother, laughing at her.
"Come home, you little sleepyhead," said Mrs. Toymaker, putting her arm about her little daughter.
On the way home Mitzi could not speak. And when Mitzi could not speak, there was something quite wrong or strange or exciting. This time it was something exciting. For her dream had given her a wonderful idea.