“Le Fifre” by Edouard Manet
Ruscany was a strange place. Nestled amongst the sweetest valleys of rolling green one might ever encounter, it was really ideal. The breeze constanly blew the rustling grasses, the birds and crickets played sonata’s to the sun in neverending rotation. This might not sound as strange as it does peaceful, which is true. In fact the valley itself was dreamy, the strange part about the place was really only the town itself Ruscany was not peaceful, it was dirty, and loathesome. The residents were filthy, they constantly threw their garbage everywhere. The streets should have been littered with garbage, but they were not. There was no garbage anywhere because there were rats everywhere who ate the garbage as quickly as it fell. Millions of fat grey rats on the floors, tables, beds, and chairs; in the sinks, and bathrooms. The town was literally crawling with awful disease ridden rats! The townspeople didn’t know what to do.
The town elders held a conference in the hall, trying desperately to find a solution. The eldest elder stood in the piazza and spoke to the people. “Citizens of Ruscany I believe you know why we are met here this afternoon. It is because of the torturous, and afflictive nature of the rats who infest our town. We cannot continue to share our existence with the pestilential, the base, the unsanitary rats. I, and my brethren of the council therefore propose to you my people that you gather your belongings, and we will build a new town, in the meadow to the West. We believe that in this way we will outsmart these foolish pests, and free ourselves from their gluttony.” He rambled on in this manner for another half hour, not really adding anything else of import. The people looked to the loveley swaying grasses that could be seen through the houses on the street. The people cheered! Of course, if they moved then the rats would stay, and they could exist somewhere new. They found this proposition highly agreeable. The next day the people of the town packed their belongings, trying desperately to do so without bringing the rats along. Then they fled to the safety of the nearby meadow. They began constructing their town immediately. The towns architects, designed a city better than the one they had left. The women set up tents, and the men gathered the horses to take to the quarry a few miles away. Life was blissful as they spent their first days away from the rats. This peace lasted only four sunrises however. On the fifth day the men were setting foundations for the new town hall One of the workers set his trowel with mortar, and the mortar on the furry stone. FURRY STONE! It was in fact not stone, but a rather lazy slate colored rat. The man screamed, and raised his trowel to strike the lethargic creature; who, alarmed at the scream, showed remarkable vigor by leaping quickly from the stone before the sharp tool hit it’s mark. The men put down their tools in horror, and stood very quietly. They could hear a very faint rustling. The people looked to the east, and saw the grasses buzzing with motion. Then they saw them, waves of huge black, grey, and brown rats washed upon them. They covered every inch of the new village, They ate scraps that people had left behind, and nestled in nooks and crannies of unset rock. The people ran to the fields north of their new home, and shook themselves free of the rodents. They sank to the ground, and wept. What were they to do now?
The Town elders, gathered on a hill near the valley. They huddled in a close circle for several minutes before addressing the villagers. An eery breeze whistled from the south as the town elder spoke, “My people it has become abundantly clear to the village elders and myself, that this place is not suitable for our habitations either. We must flee the rats completely, and entirely. I advise you therefore to find refuge in other parts of the country with family or kinsfolk where possible; because there is no escape to be found here in our little. . .” He would have continued, quite liking the sound of his own voice, but among the people at the rear there was a small commotion. People were jostling, and shoving one another to make space for a very oddly dressed little boy. He wore trousers that looked large enough to fit a much older man, and a clean blue coat with smart brass buttons. The strangest aspect of his dress was a white sash about his shoulders, from which dangled a case for a wind instrument. He made his way to the front of the crowd and stood upon a stone.
“Dear villagers heed ye well,
the tale of a country which nearby fell.
The worst of blights their plague was deemed,
their problem had no solution it seemed.
I came to their aid, for I had the talent
and asked their loyalty in return.
Yet when their curse was cured they lost their fear
So I exacted a price far more dear.
Will ye heed this message and from them be wise,
I can solve the issue before your eyes,
The rats I will chase to the very extremities,
Yet one thing only I ask of thee,
To do this thing, give me dwelling and provide some feed.
Then all willl be well, for all involved,
And peace will reign as the problem is solved.
The alarmed townspeople mused on the rhyme, and the council huddled close again. Could this boy really keep his promise? Could he truly deliver them from this evil? All he asked was for meals, and a bed. Were these not a meager price to pay. Having reasoned the matter out they agreed to the young fifers terms. The town leader got upon his pedestal and announced their decision, ” We will bargain with this boy, on his terms, and deliver as he has asked the meal, and lodging.” Not wanting to waste any more time he looked at the boy, who walked from teir midst and sat himself upon the stones of the now abandoned new construction.
. . . . . To be continued. . . .
