MANY a century back, if the old Ger¬man Chronicle may be credited an aged wandering bag-piper settled at Neisse, a small town in Silesia. He lived quietly and honestly, and at first played his tunes in secret for his own amuse¬ment; but it was not long, as his neigh¬bours delighted in listening to him, and would often in the calm of a warm midsummer evening gather round his door, whilst he called forth the cheering sounds of harmony, before Master Wilibald became acquainted both with old and young, was flattered and caressed and lived in content and prosperity.
The gallant beaux of the place, who had near his door first beheld those lovely creatures, for whose sake they had written so much bad poetry, and lost so much more valuable time, were his constant customers for melting songs, while they drowned the softer passages with the depth of their sighs. The old citizens invited him at their solemn dinner-parties; and no bride would have deemed her wedding-feast to be completely celebrated, had not Master Wilibald played the bridal dance of his own composition. For this very pur¬pose he had invented a most tender me¬lody, which united gaiety and gravity, playful ideas and melancholy feelings, forming a true emblem of matrimonial life.—A feeble trace of this tune is still to be found in what is called, the old German “Grandfathers Dance”, which, as far down as the time of our parents, was an important requisite of a wedding feast, and is even heard now and then in our days. As often as Master Willibald played this tune, the prodest spinster would not refuse to dance, the stooping matron moved again her time-stiffened joints, and like grey-haired grandfather danced it merrily with the looming offspring of his children. This dance seemed really to restore youth to the old, and this was because of its being called, at first in jest, and afterwards generally, the “Grandfather's Dance”.