Into Unknown Country.

You know what kids really want, don't you? They want a particular unknown country.

They want justice, mercy, discovery, wonder, danger -- or at least opportunity to test their limits. All that is conscious, by and large.

Unconsciously they want an end to evil.

Within themselves.

The rats went into the river.

The rats went into the adults. The mayor, the Hamlin city council.

Wasn't there a single voice? Hank jumps to his feet, "Just a minute! We can't do this! Let's be honest. I'd rather be honest and poor than dishonestly rich."

"I would rather," says someone caught up in this daybreak of honesty, but wise as a serpent, "be honestly rich."

"But this is not honest," Hank should persist.

But you know how it went.

The kids are gone.

The kids are gone.

Kids are liquid and magical. The kids grow. The kids do not prefer dead works to trees. The kids do not prefer form to content.

Kids prefer the river.

And at the river the kids scattered to look at spider webs and elfin thrones. Some drifted downstream. And some drifted back to Hamlin and spent the rest of their days longing for music they can almost remember. Some walked upstream.

And there were a few that walked across the water. Or learned to play the Pipes.

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