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CHAPTER V
ALONG THE ROAD

Mr. Toymaker heard of a fair to be held in Mainz (Mīnts). So he decided to go there at once, although it was some distance from Bayreuth.

On the journey the children were kept busy. Fritz had to help his father with many things. Mitzi had to help her mother. They found no time to try their plan. But they did not forget it.

Along the road they saw much of interest. They passed small hotels for young travelers hiking about the country. In different lands there are different sports. Spain has her bullfights. England has her cricket. Switzerland's high mountains are popular for snow and ice sports. The United States plays baseball. But Germany hikes.

All over the land, in the summer time and even in winter, one meets groups of walkers. Children walk with teachers. Older children walk alone. As they walk they sing. They admire their country and learn. They stop overnight in these little youth inns – hotels made especially for boys and girls.

"Some day I am going with a group," said Mitzi. "I am going on hiking trips."

"Not until you are a bachfisch (bäk´fish)," said Fritz.

In Germany a young girl is called a "bachfisch," which means "baked fish."

But not so long ago in Germany girls did not hike and swim and play tennis. But now it is different. Girls are interested in everything, just as they are in America.

The Toymaker family journeyed through Hanau (Hä´nou), home of the Grimm brothers. The children spoke of these two devoted men, who had always worked together. Some of their stories have become famous, as, for instance, "Hansel and Gretel" and "Tom Thumb."

The family moved on toward Frankfurt.

The five Rothschild brothers had lived in Frankfurt. They had become the richest men in Europe and were called "The Five Frankfurters." Mrs. Toymaker remembered that the great poet, Goethe, had been born there.

Mitzi hoped to eat her fill of sausages. Frankfurt is supposed to be the home of the "hot dog." But she had more important hopes than eating "hot dogs." She was going to carry out her plan for Fritz's concert when they reached Mainz.

CHAPTER VI
MAINZ AND A BEGGAR

"Come quickly, Fritz. Now, we can slip away!" said Mitzi.

They were in the market place of Mainz. Their father was sitting at a booth under a striped umbrella. He was selling a few toys, and he looked more cheerful than usual.

Mitzi led her brother down the street.

"Quickly, come! We shall stand here before this big church," she said.

They had stopped in front of a beautiful old cathedral. Near by stood the statue of a man holding a sheet of paper in his hands.

"That is the statue of Gutenberg (Go͞o´tĕn-bĕrk), the inventor of printing," said Mitzi.

Fritz could not help thinking, just then, of all the great men who have come out of Germany. There was this Gutenberg, born here in Mainz. There was Professor Einstein (Īn´stīn), the famous scientist, born in Ulm. There was —

"Fritz! Fritz!" His sister was stamping her foot and screaming until she was almost purple in the face. "Will you listen?" she cried. "What are you thinking of? Come now! Stop dreaming and play your violin!"

Fritz had to laugh at her stern round face and her sharp command.

He saluted and said, "Yes, yes, General! I obey."

Then he took up his violin and began to play. Several people stopped to listen. They smiled but passed on. Mitzi stood on one foot and then on the other. Frank lay at her feet, wondering why they did not go on to explore this strange new city. Fritz played and Mitz stood, and only a few people seemed to notice them. Among these was a gentleman who put his hand into his pocket.

"Catch!" he said to Mitzi, as he threw her a coin.

After some time, Fritz grew tired and Mitzi discouraged.

"Let us go and buy sausage with this coin," said Mitzi.

She was not altogether pleased with the way things had worked out. But, anyway, she wanted to surprise her father with the small bit they had been able to make.

They turned to leave, when all at once they heard a whining sound behind them. They looked around. Sitting upon the church steps was a beggar. He wore ragged clothes and was a very old man. He held out his hand to Mitz and Fritz.

He said, "I am a beggar and I am hungry. Will you give me your coin?"

He looked miserable. Mitzi felt sorry for him. But still she thought of her father's pleasure if she should return home with sausages.

She thought how she would say to her father, "It was Fritz's music that did it."

But Fritz was tugging at her sleeve.

"Give it to him," said the boy. "See! He is very old."

Mitzi put her hand into the pocket of her little apron and pulled out the precious coin. She looked at it lovingly, then she threw it to the old man.

"Come along, Fritz," she said.

The children turned away and left a happy beggar behind.

CHAPTER VII
DOWN THE RHINE AND TROUBLES

Mr. Toymaker felt almost jolly. He counted the money he had made and chuckled.

"At last our luck has changed," he said. "I have really sold some toys. Now, let us go on. Let us wander down the Rhine and stop at friendly fairs along the way."

Mitzi was not so pleased with her day.

"Still we shall not give up," she said to Fritz. "At the next large town you must give another concert. Only we shall take care this time that there are no beggars about!"

The family left Mainz and started along the shore of the most famous river in all the world. England has her river Thames (Tĕmz). France is proud of the Seine (Sān). Italy loves the Tiber. Russia sings of the Volga. In Austria it is the Danube. But the River Rhine is dear to Germany.

Castles on every hill have ancient legends. The Toymaker family gazed upon beautiful, vine-covered hillsides and villages where people live by the making of wine. The Rhine land is a wine land. Some of the best wines in the world come from here.

Mitz and Fritz thought of the stories of Siegfried (Sēg´frēd), that great hero of Wagner's operas, "Siegfried" and "The Twilight of the Gods." In the Rhine land Siegfried was born.

They thought of Charlemagne (Shär´lē̍-mān), that mighty conqueror, who lies sleeping in this land. They thought of dragons, of buried treasure, of brave heroes, of secret caves. The Rhine country is full of such thoughts.

Then they came to Bingen (Bĭnḡ´ĕn).

"The Mouse Tower!" cried Mitzi.

"Tell us the story, please, Mother!" said Fritz.

The children had heard this tale many times. But never before had they heard it told while they were looking at the old tower. It stood in the center of the river.

"Long ago," began Mrs. Toymaker, "there lived a cruel bishop. When the poor people were starving, he bought all the grain in the land.

He locked it up in his barn. The hungry villagers came to steal the grain. While they were in the barn, the bishop set fire to it.

"He said, 'These people deserve to die. They are like mice stealing from a granary.'

"But soon he was punished for his wickedness. One day thousands of mice broke into his tower and ate him up. That is why this is called the Mouse Tower."

Said Fritz, "He deserved to be eaten!"

Said Mitz, "I wonder how a bishop would taste to a rat."

"Mitz! Mitz!" laughed Mrs. Toymaker. "What strange ideas you have!"

Yet Mrs. Toymaker could hardly guess what strange things Mitzi was really going to do. Even Fritz did not know. Indeed, Mitzi herself was unaware of all that lay before her.

The Toymakers traveled along the Rhine.

They passed the beautiful rock of the Lorelei and Mrs. Toymaker told Mitz and Fritz the famous legend of the beautiful maiden who sat upon the rock combing her golden hair. She sang and called to passing ships, and her voice was so beautiful that fishermen and sailors tried to reach the rock but they were always dashed to pieces on the reefs at the foot of the cliffs.

Mitz and Fritz loved this story.

The Toymakers stopped at one or two small towns. But Mr. Toymaker sold no toys. Again he grew worried. They passed happy people bathing in the river. Gay bath-houses dot the shores. Bathers bake themselves in the sun and rest beside the river.

"There is never any rest for me," sighed poor Mr. Toymaker.

"Perhaps, when we reach Coblenz (kō´blĕnts), you will sell more toys," said his wife.

"When we reach Coblenz," murmured Mitzi to Fritz, "you are to give another concert."

When they arrived in Coblenz, Mitzi said, "Come along, now, Fritz. This is our chance."

A short time later, Mr. Toymaker looked about and could not find Fritz and Mitzi.

"Where are the children?" he asked. "They are always running off."

"They have gone to the town," answered Mrs. Toymaker.

"I did not tell them they could go," said Mr. Toymaker. "What are they up to? They should stay and help me with my work."

"But they finished their work," said Mrs. Toymaker.

Mr. Toymaker grunted. He would surely have grunted more angrily had he seen what his children were doing at that moment. Fritz was standing in a far corner of the market square, playing his violin. Mitzi was standing by his side.

Coblenz is a city of manufacturing and similar industries. The fortress across the river was occupied by American soldiers after the World War. Sometimes in a quiet city people are not much hurried. Therefore they give heed to pleasant sounds. Coblenz has been a quiet city since the soldiers left.

Mitzi eagerly watched the passers-by. She smiled as Fritz played. The little dog Frank wagged his tail happily. Then he fell asleep on the sidewalk.

Soon a large number of people gathered. They stood listening.

One said to another, "The boy plays well. He is a real musician."

Several coins were thrown.

"I am right!" thought Mitzi. Her heart pounded with delight. "People will pay to hear my Fritz's music. They will!"

When the day was almost done, Fritz stopped playing. Mitzi showed him the money they had made.

"See," she said. "Enough coins to make even Father smile! Come. Let us give them to Father. How pleased he will be!"

"Now, perhaps, he will like my playing," said Fritz.

They hurried toward their wagon, where they found Mr. Toymaker very much annoyed.

"Why did you run away and not tell me where you were going?" he demanded.

Mitzi held out the money.

"See, Father," she said. "See what Fritz's music has brought!"

Mr. Toymaker looked at the coins in Mitzi's hand. Then he looked at the happy face of the little girl. And then he turned to Fritz, who was smiling at him.

"You are a very naughty boy!" he said.

The smile left Fritz's face. Mitzi caught her father's arm.

"But, Father," she said. "You don't understand. Fritz did nothing wrong. He only played his violin when he had finished the work you gave him. He played in the town, and people threw coins because they liked his music."

"What?" cried Mr. Toymaker. "Do you tell me that people paid to hear a boy scratching upon a fiddle? It is not true! Fritz has stolen this money!"

"Father!" gasped Fritz.

His face had gone white. Mitzi's eyes became two round bowls.

"Oh, Father, no!" she cried. "Fritz would never steal, and neither would I!"

"Do not say another word," commanded Mr. Toymaker. "You cannot make me believe this story. A boy's fiddling cannot more money than I can make in a week selling toys. No, you have stolen. And I will not have it."

Mrs. Toymaker tried to make him believe Mitz and Fritz. But Mr. Toymaker was very stubborn.

"They are naughty children," he said to his wife. "Mitzi is always doing things she should not do. It was she who put the boy up to it. They must be made to obey! Tonight they shall go to bed without any supper."

Fritz cried himself to sleep that night. Mitzi tried to comfort him. To be accused of stealing! That was worse than having to go to bed without supper.

"We'll show Father, Fritz," Mitzi said bravely. "You'll see."

Still her heart was heavy.

"He will never believe me," said Fritz. "If only he would let me play for him! And now he thinks that I am a thief!"

Poor, honest little Fritz!