{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_15186/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_15186","id":"gutenberg_15186","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15186","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Legends -- Scandinavia","Tales -- Scandinavia"],"text":"E-text prepared by Wallace McLean, Graeme Mackreth, and the Project\nGutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\nFOLK-LORE AND LEGENDS SCANDINAVIAN\n\nW. W. Gibbings\n18 Bury St., London, W.C.\n\n1890\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFATORY NOTE.\n\n\nThanks to Thiele, to Hylten-Cavallius and Stephens, and to Asbjoernsen\nand Moe, Scandinavian Folklore is well to the front. Its treasures are\nmany, and of much value. One may be almost sorry to find among them the\noriginals of many of our English tales. Are we indebted to the folk of\nother nations for all our folk-tales? It would almost seem so.\n\nI have introduced into the present volume only one or two stories from\nthe Prose Edda. Space would not allow me to give so much of the Edda as\nI could have wished.\n\nIn selecting and translating the matter for this volume, I have\nendeavoured to make the book such as would afford its readers a fair\ngeneral view of the main features of the Folklore of the North. C.J.T.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n   The Wonderful Plough (Isle of Rugen)\n\n   How a Lad stole the Giant's Treasure (Sweden)\n\n   Tales of Cats (Denmark)\n\n   The Magician's Daughter (Sweden)\n\n   The Hill-man invited to the Christening (Denmark)\n\n   The Meal of Frothi (Norway)\n\n   The Lost Bell (Isle of Rugen)\n\n   Maiden Swanwhite and Maiden Foxtail (Sweden)\n\n   Tales of Treasure (Denmark)\n\n   Holger Danske (Denmark)\n\n   Tales from the Prose Edda--\n\n     The Gods and the Wolf\n\n     The Strange Builder\n\n     Thor's Journey to the Land of Giants\n\n     How Thor Went a-Fishing\n\n     The Death of Baldur\n\n     The Punishment of Loki\n\n   The Origin of Tiis Lake (Denmark)\n\n   There are such Women (Norway)\n\n   Tales of the Nisses (Denmark)\n\n   The Dwarfs' Banquet (Norway)\n\n   The Icelandic Sorceresses (Eyrbiggia Saga)\n\n   The Three Dogs (Sweden)\n\n   The Legend of Thorguima (Eyrbiggia Saga)\n\n   The Little Glass Shoe (Isle of Rugen)\n\n   How Loki Wagered his Head (Edda Resenii)\n\n   The Adventures of John Dietrich (Isle of Rugen)\n\n   How Thorston Became Rich (Thorston's Saga)\n\n   Gudbrand of the Hillside (Norway)\n\n   The Dwarf-Sword Tirfing (Hervarar Saga)\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL PLOUGH.\n\nThere was once a farmer who was master of one of the little black dwarfs\nthat are the blacksmiths and armourers, and he got him in a very curious\nway. On the road leading to this farmer's ground there stood a stone\ncross, and every morning as he went to his work he used to stop and\nkneel down before this cross, and pray for some minutes.\n\nOn one of these occasions he noticed on the cross a pretty, bright\ninsect, of such a brilliant hue that he could not recollect having ever\nbefore seen the like in an insect. He wondered greatly at this, but\nstill he did not disturb it. The insect did not remain long quiet, but\nran without ceasing backwards and forwards upon the cross, as if it was\nin pain and wanted to get away.\n\nNext morning the farmer again saw the very same insect, and again it was\nrunning to and fro in the same state of uneasiness. The farmer began now\nto have some suspicions about it, and thought to himself--\n\n\"Would this now be one of the little black enchanters? It runs about\njust like one that has an evil conscience, as one that would, but\ncannot, get away.\"\n\nA variety of thoughts and conjectures passed through his mind, and he\nremembered what he had often heard from his father and other old people,\nthat when any of the underground people chance to touch anything holy\nthey are held fast and cannot quit the spot, and so they are extremely\ncareful to avoid all such things.\n\n\"But,\" thought he, \"you may even be something else, and I should,\nperhaps, be committing a sin in taking the little insect away.\"\n\nSo he let it stay where it was.\n\nWhen, however, he twice again found it in the same place, and still\nrunning about with the same signs of uneasiness, he said--\n\n\"No, it is not all right with it, so now, in the name of God.\"\n\nHe made a grasp at the insect, which resisted and clung fast to the\nstone; but he held it tight, and tore it away by main force, and lo!\nthen he found he had, by the top of the head, a little ugly black chap,\nabout six inches long, screeching and kicking at a furious rate.\n\nThe farmer was greatly astounded at this sudden transformation. Still he\nheld his prize fast, and kept calling to him, while he administered to\nhim a few smart slaps--\n\n\"Be quiet, be quiet, my little man! If crying was to do the business, we\nmight look for heroes in swaddling-clothes. We'll just take you with us\na bit, and see what you are good for.\"\n\nThe little fellow trembled and shook in every limb, and then began to\nwhimper most piteously, and begged of the farmer to let him go.\n\n\"No, my lad,\" replied the farmer, \"I will not let you go till you tell\nme who you are, and how you came here, and what trade you know that\nenables you to earn your bread in the world.\"\n\nAt this the little man grinned and shook his head, but said not a word\nin reply, only begging and praying the more to get loose. The farmer\nthought he must now entreat him if he would coax any information out of\nhim. But it was all to no purpose. He then adopted the contrary method,\nand whipped and slashed him, but just to as little effect. The little\nblack thing remained as dumb as the grave, for this species is the most\nmalicious and obstinate of all the underground folk.\n\nThe farmer now got angry, and said--\n\n\"Do but be quiet, my child. I should be a fool to put myself into a\npassion with such a little brat. Never fear, I shall soon make you tame\nenough.\"\n\nSo saying, he ran home with him, and clapped him into a black sooty iron\npot, and put the iron lid upon it, and laid on the top of the lid a\ngreat heavy stone. Then he set the pot in a dark, cold room, and as he\nwas going out, said to him--\n\n\"Stay there, now, and freeze till you are black! I'll engage that at\nlast you will answer me civilly.\"\n\nTwice a week the farmer went regularly into the room and asked his\nlittle black captive if he would answer him now, but the little one\nstill obstinately persisted in his silence. The farmer had, without\nsuccess, pursued this course for six weeks, at the end of which time his\nprisoner at last gave up. One day, as the farmer was opening the room\ndoor, of his own accord he asked him to come and take him out of his\ndirty, gloomy dungeon, promising that he would now cheerfully do all\nthat was wanted of him.\n\nThe farmer first ordered him to tell him his history. The black one\nreplied--\n\n\"My dear friend, you know it just as well as I do, or else you never\nwould have had me here. You see I happened by chance to come too near\nthe cross, a thing we little people may not do, and then I was held\nfast, and obliged instantly to let my body become visible. In order that\npeople might not recognise me, I turned myself into an insect. But you\nfound me out. When we get fastened to holy or consecrated things we can\nnever get away from them unless a man takes us off. That, however, does\nnot happen without plague and annoyance to us; though, indeed, to say\nthe truth, the staying fastened there is not over pleasant. So I\nstruggled against you too, for we have a natural aversion to let\nourselves be taken in a man's hand.\"\n\n\"Ho, ho! is that the tune with you?\" cried the farmer. \"You have a\nnatural aversion have you? Believe me, my sooty friend, I have just the\nsame for you, and so you shall be away without a moment's delay, and we\nwill lose no time in making our bargain with each other. But you must\nfirst make me some present.\"\n\n\"What you will you have only to ask,\" said the little one, \"silver and\ngold, and precious stones, and costly furniture--all shall be thine in\nless than an instant.\"\n\n\"Silver and gold, and precious stones, and all such glittering fine\nthings, will I none,\" said the farmer. \"They have turned the heart and\nbroken the neck of many a one before now, and few are they whose lives\nthey make happy. I know that you are handy smiths, and have many a\nstrange thing with you that other smiths know nothing about. So, come\nnow, swear to me that you will make me an iron plough, such that the\nsmallest foal may be able to draw it without being tired, and then run\noff with you as fast as your legs will carry you.\" So the black swore,\nand then the farmer cried out--\n\n\"Now, in the name of God. There you are at liberty,\" and the little one\nvanished like lightning.\n\nNext morning, before the sun was up, there stood in the farmer's yard a\nnew iron plough, and he yoked his dog, Water, to it; and though it was\nof the size of an ordinary plough, Water drew it with ease through the\nheaviest clayland, and it tore up prodigious furrows. The farmer used\nthis plough for many years, and the smallest foal or the leanest little\nhorse could draw it through the ground, to the amazement of every one\nwho beheld it, without turning a single hair.\n\nThis plough made a rich man of the farmer, for it cost him no\nhorse-flesh, and he led a cheerful and contented life by means of it.\n\nHereby we may see that moderation holds out the longest, and that it is\nnot good to covet too much.\n\n\n\n\nHOW A LAD STOLE THE GIANT'S TREASURE.\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a peasant who had three sons. The two elder\nones used to go with him to the field and to the forest, and helped him\nin his work, but the youngest remained at home with his mother, to help\nher in the house. His brothers despised him for doing this, and whenever\nthey had a chance they used him badly.\n\nAt length the father and mother died, and the sons divided the property\namong them. As might have been looked for, the elder brothers took all\nthat was of any value for themselves, leaving nothing to the youngest\nbut an old cracked kneading-trough, which neither of them thought worth\nthe having.\n\n\"The old trough,\" said one of the brothers, \"will do very well for our\nyoung brother, for he is always baking and scrubbing.\"\n\nThe boy thought this, as was only natural, a poor thing to inherit, but\nhe could do nothing, and he now recognised that it would be no use his\nremaining at home, so he wished his brothers good-bye, and went off to\nseek his fortune. On coming to the side of a lake he made his trough\nwater-tight with oakum, and converted it into a little boat. Then he\nfound two sticks, and using these as oars rowed away.\n\nWhen he had crossed the water, he saw a large palace, and entering it,\nhe asked to speak with the king. The king questioned him respecting his\nfamily and the purpose of his visit.\n\n\"I,\" said the boy, \"am the son of a poor peasant, and all I have in the\nworld is an old kneading-trough. I have come here to seek work.\"\n\nThe king laughed when he heard this.\n\n\"Indeed,\" said he, \"you have not inherited much, but fortune works many\na change.\"\n\nHe took the lad to be one of his servants, and he became a favourite for\nhis courage and honesty.\n\nNow the king who owned this palace had an only daughter, who was so\nbeautiful and so clever that she was talked of all through the kingdom,\nand many came from the east and from the west to ask her hand in\nmarriage. The princess, however, rejected them all, saying that none\nshould have her for his wife unless he brought her for a wedding-present\nfour valuable things belonging to a giant who lived on the other side of\nthe lake. These four treasures were a gold sword, three gold hens, a\ngold lantern, and a gold harp.\n\nMany king's sons and many good warriors tried to win these treasures,\nbut none of them came back, for the giant caught them all and eat them.\nThe king was very sorrowful, for he feared that at this rate his\ndaughter would never get a husband, and so he would not have a\nson-in-law to whom to leave his kingdom.\n\nThe boy when he heard of this thought that it might be well worth his\nwhile to try to win the king's beautiful daughter. So he went to the\nking one day, and told him what he meant to do. When the king heard him,\nhe got angry, and said--\n\n\"Do you think that you, who are only a servant, can do what great\nwarriors have failed in?\"\n\nThe boy, however, was not to be dissuaded, and begged him so to let him\ngo that at last the king grew calmer and gave him his permission. \"But,\"\nsaid he, \"you will lose your life, and I shall be sorry to miss you.\"\n\nWith that they parted.\n\nThe boy went down to the shore of the lake, and, having found his\ntrough, he looked it over very closely. Then he got into it and rowed\nacross the lake, and coming to the giant's dwelling he hid himself, and\nstayed the night there.\n\nVery early in the morning, before it was light, the giant went to his\nbarn, and began to thrash, making such a noise that the mountains all\naround echoed again. When the boy heard this he collected some stones\nand put them in his pouch. Then he climbed up on to the roof of the barn\nand made a little hole so that he could look in. Now the giant had by\nhis side his golden sword, which had the strange property that it\nclanked whenever the giant was angry. While the giant was busy thrashing\nat full speed, the boy threw a little stone which hit the sword, and\ncaused it to clank.\n\n\"Why do you clank?\" said the giant. \"I am not angry.\"\n\nHe went on thrashing, but the next moment the sword clanked again. Once\nmore the giant pursued his work, and the sword clanked a third time.\nThen the giant got so angry that he undid the belt, and threw the sword\nout of the barn door.\n\n\"Lie there,\" said he, \"till I have done my thrashing.\"\n\nThe lad waited no longer, but slipping down from the roof seized on the\nsword, ran to his boat, and rowed across the water. On reaching the\nother side he hid his treasure, and was full of glee at the success of\nhis adventure.\n\nThe next day he filled his pouch with corn, put a bundle of bast-twine\nin his boat, and once more set off to the giant's dwelling. He lay\nhiding for a time, and then he saw the giant's three golden hens walking\nabout on the shore, and spreading their feathers, which sparkled\nbeautifully in the bright sunshine. He was soon near them, and began to\nsoftly lead them on, scattering corn for them out of his pouch. While\nthey were picking the boy gradually led them to the water, till at last\nhe got them into his little boat. Then he jumped in himself, secured the\nfowl with his twine, pushed out from the shore, and rowed as quickly as\nhe could to the other side of the water.\n\nThe third day he put some lumps of salt into his pouch, and again rowed\nacross the lake. As night came on he noticed how the smoke rose from\nthe giant's dwelling, and concluded that the giant's wife was busy\ngetting ready his food. He crept up on to the roof, and, looking down\nthrough the hole by which the smoke escaped, saw a large caldron boiling\non the fire. Then he took the lumps of salt out of his pouch, and threw\nthem one by one into the pot. Having done this, he crept down from the\nroof, and waited to see what would follow.\n\nSoon after the giant's wife took the caldron off the fire, poured out\nthe porridge into a bowl, and put it on the table. The giant was hungry,\nand he fell to at once, but scarcely had he tasted the porridge when he\nfound it too salt. He got very angry, and started from his seat. The old\nwoman made what excuse she could, and said that the porridge must be\ngood; but the giant declared he would eat no more of the stuff, and told\nher to taste it for herself. She did so, and pulled a terrible face, for\nshe had never in her life tasted such abominable stuff.\n\nThere was nothing for it but she must make some new porridge. So she\nseized a can, took the gold lantern down from the wall, and went as fast\nas she could to the well to draw some water. She put the lantern down by\nthe side of the well, and was stooping down to get the water, when the\nboy ran to her, and, laying hold of her by the feet, threw her head over\nheels into the well. He seized hold of the golden lantern, ran away as\nfast as he could to his boat, and rowed across the water in safety.\n\nThe giant sat for a long time wondering why his wife was away so long.\nAt last he went to look for her, but nothing could he see of her. Then\nhe heard a splashing in the well, and finding she was in the water, he,\nwith a lot of work, got her out.\n\n\"Where is my gold lantern?\" was the first thing he asked, as the old\nwoman came round a little.\n\n\"I don't know,\" answered she. \"Somebody came, caught me by the feet, and\nthrew me into the well.\"\n\nThe giant was very angry at this.\n\n\"Three of my treasures,\" said he, \"have gone, and I have now only my\ngolden harp left. But, whoever the thief may be, he shall not have that;\nI will keep that safe under twelve locks.\"\n\nWhile these things occurred at the giant's dwelling, the boy sat on the\nother side of the water, rejoicing that he had got on so well.\n\nThe most difficult task, however, had yet to be done, and for a long\ntime he thought over how he could get the golden harp. At length he\ndetermined to row over to the giant's place and see if fortune would\nfavour him.\n\nNo sooner said than done. He rowed over and went to a hiding-place. The\ngiant had, however, been on the watch, and had seen him. So he rushed\nforward in a terrible rage and seized the boy, saying--\n\n\"So I have caught you at last, you young rascal. You it was who stole my\nsword, my three gold hens, and my gold lantern.\"\n\nThe boy was terribly afraid, for he thought his last hour was come.\n\n\"Spare my life, father,\" said he humbly, \"and I will never come here\nagain.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied the giant, \"I will do the same with you as with the\nothers. No one slips alive out of my hands.\"\n\nHe then shut the boy up in a sty, and fed him with nuts and sweet milk,\nso as to get him nice and fat preparatory to killing and eating him.\n\nThe lad was a prisoner, but he ate and drank and made himself as easy as\nhe could. After some time the giant wanted to find out if he were fat\nenough to be killed. So he went to the sty, made a little hole in the\nwall, and told the boy to put his finger through it. The lad knew what\nhe wanted; so instead of putting out his finger he poked out a little\npeeled alder twig. The giant cut the twig, and the red sap ran out. Then\nhe thought the boy must be yet very lean since his flesh was so hard, so\nhe caused a greater supply of milk and nuts to be given to him.\n\nSome time after, the giant again visited the sty, and ordered the boy to\nput his finger through the hole in the wall. The lad now poked out a\ncabbage-stalk, and the giant, having cut it with his knife, concluded\nthat the lad must be fat enough, his flesh seemed so soft.\n\nThe next morning the giant said to his wife--\n\n\"The boy seems to be fat enough now, mother; take him then to-day, and\nbake him in the oven, while I go and ask our kinsfolk to the feast.\"\n\nThe old woman promised to do what her husband told her. So, having\nheated the oven, she dragged out the boy to bake him.\n\n\"Sit on the shovel,\" said she.\n\nThe boy did so, but when the old woman raised the shovel the boy always\nfell off. So they went on many times. At last the giantess got angry,\nand scolded the boy for being so awkward; the lad excused himself,\nsaying that he did not know the way to sit on the shovel.\n\n\"Look at me,\" said the woman, \"I will show you.\"\n\nSo she sat herself down on the shovel, bending her back and drawing up\nher knees. No sooner was she seated than the boy, seizing hold of the\nhandle, pushed her into the oven and slammed the door to. Then he took\nthe woman's fur cloak, stuffed it out with straw, and laid it on the\nbed. Seizing the giant's bunch of keys, he opened the twelve locks,\nsnatched up the golden harp, and ran down to his boat, which he had\nhidden among the flags on the shore.\n\nThe giant soon afterwards came home.\n\n\"Where can my wife be?\" said he. \"No doubt she has lain down to sleep a\nbit. Ah! I thought so.\"\n\nThe old woman, however, slept a long while, and the giant could not wake\nher, though he was now expecting his friends to arrive.\n\n\"Wake up, mother,\" cried he, but no one replied. He called again, but\nthere was no response. He got angry, and, going to the bed, he gave the\nfur cloak a good shake. Then he found that it was not his wife, but\nonly a bundle of straw put in her clothes. At this the giant grew\nalarmed, and he ran off to look after his golden harp. He found his keys\ngone, the twelve locks undone, and the harp missing. He went to the oven\nand opened the door to see how the meat for the feast was going on.\nBehold! there sat his wife, baked, and grinning at him.\n\nThen the giant was almost mad with grief and rage, and he rushed out to\nseek the lad who had done him all this mischief. He came down to the\nedge of the water and found him sitting in his boat, playing on the\nharp. The music came over the water, and the gold strings shone\nwonderfully in the sunshine. The giant jumped into the water after the\nboy; but finding that it was too deep, he laid himself down, and began\nto drink the water in order to make the lake shallower. He drank with\nall his might, and by this means set up a current which drew the boat\nnearer and nearer to the shore. Just when he was going to lay hold of it\nhe burst, for he had drunk too much; and there was an end of him.\n\nThe giant lay dead on the shore, and the boy moved away across the lake,\nfull of joy and happiness. When he came to land, he combed his golden\nhair, put on fine clothes, fastened the giant's gold sword by his side,\nand, taking the gold harp in one hand and the gold lantern in the other,\nhe led the gold fowl after him, and went to the king, who was sitting in\nthe great hall of the palace surrounded by his courtiers. When the king\nsaw the boy he was heartily glad. The lad went to the king's beautiful\ndaughter, saluted her courteously, and laid the giant's treasures before\nher. Then there was great joy in the palace, that the princess had after\nall got the giant's treasures and so bold and handsome a bridegroom. The\nwedding was celebrated soon after with very much splendour and\nrejoicing; and when the king died the lad succeeded him, ruling over all\nthe land both long and happily.\n\nI know no more respecting them.\n\n\n\n\nTALES OF CATS.\n\n\nThe house of Katholm (Cat-isle) near Grenaac, in Jutland, got its name\nfrom the following circumstance.\n\nThere was a man in Jutland who had made a good deal of money by improper\nmeans. When he died he left his property equally among his three sons.\nThe youngest, when he got his share, thought to himself--\n\n\"What comes with sin goes with sorrow,\" and he resolved to submit his\nmoney to the water-ordeal, thinking that the ill-got money would sink to\nthe bottom, and what was honestly acquired swim on the top. He\naccordingly cast all his money into the water, and only one solitary\nfarthing swam. With this he bought a cat, and he went to sea and visited\nforeign parts. At length he chanced to come to a place where the people\nwere sadly plagued by an enormous number of rats and mice, and as his\ncat had had kittens by this time, he acquired great wealth by selling\nthem. So he came home to Jutland, and built himself a house, which he\ncalled Katholm.\n\nThere was one time a poor sailor out of Ribe, who came to a foreign\nisland whose inhabitants were grievously plagued with mice. By good\nluck he had a cat of his own on board, and the people of the island gave\nhim so much gold for it that he went home as fast as he could to fetch\nmore cats, and by this traffic he in a short time grew so rich that he\nhad no need of any more. Some time after, when he was on his deathbed,\nhe bequeathed a large sum of money for the building of Ribe Cathedral,\nand a proof of this is still to be seen in a carving over the east door\nof the church, representing a cat and four mice. The door is called\nCat-head Door (Kathoved Dor).\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAGICIAN'S DAUGHTER\n\n\nJust on the Finland frontiers there is situated a high mountain, which,\non the Swedish side, is covered with beautiful copsewood, and on the\nother with dark pine-trees, so closely ranked together, and so luxuriant\nin shade, that one might almost say the smallest bird could not find its\nway through the thickets. Below the copsewood there stands a chapel with\nthe image of St. George, as guardian of the land and as a defence\nagainst dragons, if there be such, and other monsters of paganism,\nwhile, on the other side, on the borders of the dark firwood, are\ncertain cottages inhabited by wicked sorcerers, who have, moreover, a\ncave cut so deep into the mountain that it joins with the bottomless\nabyss, whence come all the demons that assist them. The Swedish\nChristians who dwelt in the neighbourhood of this mountain thought it\nwould be necessary, besides the chapel and statue of St. George, to\nchoose some living protector, and therefore selected an ancient warrior,\nhighly renowned for his prowess in the battle-field, who had, in his old\nage, become a monk. When this man went to take up his abode upon the\nmountains, his only son (for he had formerly lived as a married man in\nthe world) would on no account leave him, but lived there also,\nassisting his father in his duties as watcher, and in the exercises of\nprayer and penitence, fully equalling the example that was now afforded\nhim as he had formerly done his example as a soldier.\n\nThe life led by those two valiant champions is said to have been most\nadmirable and pious.\n\nOnce on a time it happened that the young hero went out to cut wood in\nthe forest. He bore a sharp axe on his shoulders, and was besides girded\nwith a great sword; for as the woods were not only full of wild beasts,\nbut also haunted by wicked men, the pious hermits took the precaution of\nalways going armed. While the good youth was forcing his way through the\nthickest of the copsewood, and already beheld over it the pointed tops\nof the fir-trees (for he was close on the Finland frontier), there\nrushed out against him a great white wolf, so that he had only just time\nenough to leap to one side, and not being able immediately to draw his\nsword, he flung his axe at his assailant. The blow was so well aimed\nthat it struck one of the wolf's fore-legs, and the animal, being sorely\nwounded, limped back, with a yell of anguish, into the wood. The young\nhermit warrior, however, thought to himself--\n\n\"It is not enough that I am rescued, but I must take such measures that\nno one else may in future be injured, or even terrified by this wild\nbeast.\"\n\nSo he rushed in as fast as possible among the fir-trees, and inflicted\nsuch a vehement blow with his sword on the wolf's head, that the animal,\ngroaning piteously, fell to the ground. Hereupon there came over the\nyoung man all at once a strange mood of regret and compassion for his\npoor victim. Instead of putting it immediately to death, he bound up the\nwounds as well as he could with moss and twigs of trees, placed it on a\nsort of canvas sling on which he was in the habit of carrying great\nfagots, and with much labour brought it home, in hopes that he might be\nable at last to cure and tame his fallen adversary. He did not find his\nfather in the cottage, and it was not without some fear and anxiety that\nhe laid the wolf on his own bed, which was made of moss and rushes, and\nover which he had nailed St. George and the Dragon. He then turned to\nthe fire-place of the small hut, in order to prepare a healing salve for\nthe wounds. While he was thus occupied, how much was he astonished to\nhear the moanings and lamentations of a human voice from the bed on\nwhich he had just before deposited the wolf. On returning thither his\nwonder was inexpressible on perceiving, instead of the frightful wild\nbeast, a most beautiful damsel, on whose head the wound which he had\ninflicted was bleeding through her fine golden hair, and whose right\narm, in all its grace and snow-white luxuriance, was stretched out\nmotionless, for it had been broken by the blow from his axe.\n\n\"Pray,\" said she, \"have pity, and do not kill me outright. The little\nlife that I have still left is, indeed, painful enough, and may not\nlast long; yet, sad as my condition is, it is yet tenfold better than\ndeath.\"\n\nThe young man then sat down weeping beside her, and she explained to him\nthat she was the daughter of a magician, on the other side of the\nmountain, who had sent her out in the shape of a wolf to collect plants\nfrom places which, in her own proper form, she could not have reached.\nIt was but in terror she had made that violent spring which the youth\nhad mistaken for an attack on him, when her only wish had been to pass\nby him.\n\n\"But you directly broke my right arm,\" said she, \"though I had no evil\ndesign against you.\"\n\nHow she had now regained her proper shape she could not imagine, but to\nthe youth it was quite clear that the picture of St. George and the\nDragon had broken the spell by which the poor girl had been transformed.\n\nWhile the son was thus occupied, the old man returned home, and soon\nheard all that had occurred, perceiving, at the same time, that if the\nyoung pagan wanderer had been released from the spells by which she had\nbeen bound, the youth was, in his turn, enchanted and spellbound by her\nbeauty and amiable behaviour.\n\nFrom that moment he exerted himself to the utmost for the welfare of her\nsoul, endeavouring to convert her to Christianity, while his son\nattended to the cure of her wounds; and, as their endeavours were on\nboth sides successful, it was resolved that the lovers should be united\nin marriage, for the youth had not restricted himself by any monastic\nvows.\n\nThe magician's daughter was now restored to perfect health. A day had\nbeen appointed for her baptism and marriage. It happened that one\nevening the bride and bridegroom went to take a pleasure walk through\nthe woods. The sun was yet high in the west, and shone so fervently\nthrough the beech-trees on the green turf that they could never resolve\non turning home, but went still deeper and deeper into the forest. Then\nthe bride told him stories of her early life, and sang old songs which\nshe had learned when a child, and which sounded beautifully amid the\nwoodland solitude. Though the words were such that they could not be\nagreeable to the youth's ears (for she had learned them among her pagan\nand wicked relations), yet he could not interrupt her, first, because he\nloved her so dearly, and, secondly, because she sang in a voice so clear\nand sweet that the whole forest seemed to rejoice in her music. At last,\nhowever, the pointed heads of the pine-trees again became visible, and\nthe youth wished to turn back, in order that he might not come again too\nnear the hated Finnish frontier. His bride, however, said to him--\n\n\"Dearest Conrad, why should we not walk on a little further? I would\ngladly see the very place where you so cruelly wounded me on the head\nand arm, and made me prisoner, all which has, in the end contributed to\nmy happiness. Methinks we are now very near the spot.\"\n\nAccordingly they sought about here and there until at last the twilight\nfell dim and heavy on the dense woods. The sun had long since set. The\nmoon, however, had risen, and, as a light broke forth, the lovers stood\non the Finland frontier, or rather they must have gone already some\ndistance beyond it, for the bridegroom was exceedingly terrified when he\nfound his cap lifted from his head, as if by human hand, though he saw\nonly the branch of a fir-tree. Immediately thereafter the whole air\naround them was filled with strange and supernatural beings--witches,\ndevils, dwarfs, horned-owls, fire-eyed cats, and a thousand other\nwretches that could not be named and described, whirled around them as\nif dancing to rapid music. When the bride had looked on for a while, she\nbroke out into loud laughter, and at last began to dance furiously along\nwith them. The poor bridegroom might shout and pray as much and as\nearnestly as he would, for she never attended to him, but at last\ntransformed herself in a manner so extraordinary that he could not\ndistinguish her from the other dancers. He thought, however, that he had\nkept his eyes upon her, and seized on one of the dancers; but alas! it\nwas only a horrible spectre which held him fast, and threw its wide\nwaving shroud around him, so that he could not make his escape, while,\nat the same time, some of the subterraneous black demons pulled at his\nlegs, and wanted to bear him down along with them into their bottomless\ncaves.\n\nFortunately he happened at that moment to cross himself and call on the\nname of the Saviour, upon which the whole of this vile assembly fell\ninto confusion. They howled aloud and ran off in all directions, while\nConrad in the meantime saved himself by recrossing the frontier, and\ngetting under the protection of the Swedish copsewood. His beautiful\nbride, however, was completely lost; and by no endeavours could he ever\nobtain her again, though he often came to the Finland border, called out\nher name aloud, wept and prayed, but all in vain. Many times, it is\ntrue, he saw her floating about through the pine-trees, as if in chase,\nbut she was always accompanied by a train of frightful creatures, and\nshe herself also looked wild and disfigured. For the most part she never\nnoticed Conrad, but if she could not help fixing her eyes upon him, she\nlaughed so immoderately, and in a mood of merriment so strange and\nunnatural, that he was terrified and made the sign of the cross,\nwhereupon she always fled away, howling, into one of the thickets.\n\nConrad fell more and more into melancholy abstraction, hardly ever\nspoke, and though he had given over his vain walks into the forest, yet\nif one asked him a question, the only answer he returned was--\n\n\"Ay, she is gone away beyond the mountains,\" so little did he know or\nremember of any other object in the world but the lost beauty.\n\nAt last he died of grief; and according to a request which he had once\nmade, his father prepared a grave for him on the place where the bride\nwas found and lost, though during the fulfilment of this duty he had\nenough to do--one while in contending with his crucifix against evil\nspirits, and at another, with his sword against wild beasts, which were\nno doubt sent thither by the magicians to attack and annoy him. At\nlength, however, he brought his task to an end, and thereafter it seemed\nas if the bride mourned for the youth's untimely death, for there was\nheard often a sound of howling and lamentation at the grave. For the\nmost part, indeed, this voice is like the voices of wolves, yet, at the\nsame time, human accents are to be distinguished, and I myself have\noften listened thereto on dark winter nights.\n\nAlas! that the poor maiden should have ventured again so near the\naccursed paths she had once renounced. A few steps in the backward\ncourse, and all is lost!\n\n\n\n\nTHE HILL-MAN INVITED TO THE CHRISTENING.\n\n\nThe hill-people are excessively frightened during thunder. When,\ntherefore, they see bad weather coming on, they lose no time in getting\nto the shelter of their hills. This terror is also the cause of their\nnot being able to endure the beating of a drum. They take it to be the\nrolling of thunder. It is, therefore, a good recipe for banishing them\nto beat a drum every day in the neighbourhood of their hills, for they\nimmediately pack up, and depart to some quieter residence.\n\nA farmer lived once in great friendship and concord with a hill-man,\nwhose hill was in his lands. One time when his wife was about to have a\nchild, it gave him great perplexity to think that he could not well\navoid inviting the hill-man to the christening, which might, not\nimprobably, bring him into ill repute with the priest and the other\npeople of the village. He was going about pondering deeply, but in vain,\nhow he might get out of this dilemma, when it came into his head to ask\nthe advice of the boy that kept his pigs, who had a great head-piece,\nand had often helped him before. The pig-boy instantly undertook to\narrange the matter with the hill-man in such a manner that he should not\nonly stay away without being offended, but, moreover, give a good\nchristening present.\n\nAccordingly, when it was night, he took a sack on his shoulder, went to\nthe hill-man's hill, knocked, and was admitted. He delivered his\nmessage, gave his master's compliments, and requested the honour of his\ncompany at the christening. The hill-man thanked him, and said--\n\n\"I think it is but right I should give you a christening present.\"\n\nWith these words he opened his money-chests, bidding the boy hold up his\nsack while he poured money into it.\n\n\"Is there enough now?\" said he, when he had put a good quantity into it.\n\n\"Many give more, few give less,\" replied the boy.\n\nThe hill-man once more fell to filling the sack, and again asked--\n\n\"Is there enough now?\"\n\nThe boy lifted the sack a little off the ground to see if he was able to\ncarry any more, and then answered--\n\n\"It is about what most people give.\"\n\nUpon this the hill-man emptied the whole chest into the bag, and once\nmore asked--\n\n\"Is there enough now?\"\n\nThe guardian of the pigs now saw that there was as much in the sack as\nhe would be able to carry, so he answered--\n\n\"No one gives more, most people give less.\"\n\n\"Come now,\" said the hill-man, \"let us hear who else is to be at the\nchristening.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the boy, \"we are to have a great many strangers and great\npeople. First and foremost, we are to have three priests and a bishop.\"\n\n\"Hem!\" muttered the hill-man; \"however, those gentlemen usually look\nonly after the eating and drinking; they will never take any notice of\nme. Well, who else?\"\n\n\"Then we have asked St. Peter and St. Paul.\"\n\n\"Hem! hem! However, there will be a bye-place for me behind the stove.\nWell, and what then?\"\n\n\"Then Our Lady herself is coming.\"\n\n\"Hem! hem! hem! However, guests of such high rank come late and go away\nearly. But tell me, my lad, what sort of music is it you are to have?\"\n\n\"Music,\" said the boy, \"why, we are to have drums.\"\n\n\"Drums!\" repeated the troll, quite terrified. \"No, no! Thank you. I\nshall stay at home in that case. Give my best respects to your master,\nand I thank him for the invitation, but I cannot come. I did but once go\nout to take a little walk, and some people began to beat a drum. I\nhurried home, and was but just got to my door when they flung the\ndrum-stick after me, and broke one of my shins. I have been lame of that\nleg ever since, and I shall take good care in future to avoid that sort\nof music.\"\n\nSo saying he helped the boy to put the sack on his back, once more\ncharging him to present his best respects to his master.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MEAL OF FROTHI.\n\n\nGold is called by the poets the meal of Frothi, and the origin of the\nterm is found in this story.\n\nOdin had a son named Skioldr who settled and reigned in the land which\nis now called Denmark, but was then called Gotland. Skioldr had a son\nnamed Frithleif, who reigned after him. Frithleif's son was called\nFrothi, and succeeded him on the throne. At the time that the Emperor\nAugustus made peace over the whole world, Christ was born, but as Frothi\nwas the most powerful of all the monarchs of the north, that peace,\nwherever the Danish language was spoken, was imputed to him, and the\nNorthmen called it Frothi's peace.\n\nAt that time no man hurt another, even if he found the murderer of his\nfather or brother, loose or bound. Theft and robbery were then unknown,\ninsomuch that a gold armlet lay for a long time untouched in\nJalangursheath.\n\nFrothi chanced to go on a friendly visit to a certain king in Sweden,\nnamed Fiolnir, and there purchased two female slaves, called Fenia and\nMenia, equally distinguished for their stature and strength. In those\ndays there were found in Denmark two quern-stones of such a size, that\nno one was able to move them, and these mill-stones were endued with\nsuch virtue, that the quern in grinding produced whatever the grinder\nwished for. The quern was called Grotti. He who presented this quern to\nFrothi was called Hengikioptr (hanging-chops). King Frothi caused these\nslaves to be brought to the quern, and ordered them to grind gold,\npeace, and prosperity for Frothi. The king allowed them no longer rest\nor sleep than while the cuckoo was silent or a verse could be recited.\nThen they are said to have sung the lay called Grotta-Savngr, and before\nthey ended their song to have ground a hostile army against Frothi,\ninsomuch, that a certain sea-king, called Mysingr, arriving the same\nnight, slew Frothi, taking great spoil. And so ended Frothi's peace.\n\nMysingr took with him the quern, Grotti, with Fenia and Menia, and\nordered them to grind salt. About midnight they asked Mysingr whether he\nhad salt enough. On his ordering them to go on grinding, they went on a\nlittle longer till the ship sank under the weight of the salt. A\nwhirlpool was produced, where the waves are sucked up by the mill-eye,\nand the waters of the sea have been salt ever since.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LOST BELL.\n\n\nA shepherd's boy, belonging to Patzig, about half a mile from Bergen,\nwhere there are great numbers of underground people in the hills, found\none morning a little silver bell on the green heath among the giants'\ngraves, and fastened it on him. It happened to be the bell belonging to\nthe cap of one of the little brown ones, who had lost it while he was\ndancing, and did not immediately miss it or observe that it was no\nlonger tinkling in his cap. He had gone down into the hill without his\nbell, and, having discovered his loss, was filled with melancholy, for\nthe worst thing that can befall the underground people is to lose their\ncap, or their shoes; but even to lose the bell from their caps, or the\nbuckle from their belts, is no trifle to them. Whoever loses his bell\nmust pass some sleepless nights, for not a wink of sleep can he get till\nhe has recovered it.\n\nThe little fellow was in the greatest trouble, and looked and searched\nabout everywhere. But how could he learn who had the bell? for only on a\nvery few days in the year may they come up to daylight, nor can they\nthen appear in their true form. He had turned himself into every form of\nbirds, beasts, and men, and he had sung and groaned and lamented about\nhis bell, but not the slightest tidings or trace of tidings had he been\nable to get. Most unfortunately for him, the shepherd's boy had left\nPatzig the very day he found the little bell, and he was now keeping\nsheep at Unrich, near Gingst, so that it was not till many a day after,\nand then by mere chance, that the little underground fellow recovered\nhis bell, and with it his peace of mind.\n\nHe had thought it not unlikely that a raven, or a crow, or a jackdaw, or\na magpie, had found his bell, and from its thievish disposition, which\nattracts it to anything bright and shining, had carried it into its\nnest. With this thought he turned himself into a beautiful little bird,\nand searched all the nests in the island, and he'd sang before all kinds\nof birds to see if they had found what he had lost, and could restore to\nhim his sleep. He had, however, been able to learn nothing from the\nbirds. As he now, one evening, was flying over the waters of Ralov and\nthe fields of Unrich, the shepherd's boy, whose name was John\nSchlagenteufel (Smite-devil), happened to be keeping his sheep there at\nthe very time. Several of the sheep had bells about their necks, and\nthey tinkled merrily when the boy's dog set them trotting. The little\nbird who was flying over them thought of his bell, and sang in a\nmelancholy tone----\n\n \"Little bell, little bell,\n Little ram as well,\n You, too, little sheep,\n If you've my tingle too,\n No sheep's so rich as you,\n My rest you keep.\"\n\nThe boy looked up and listened to this strange song which came out of\nthe sky, and saw the pretty bird, which seemed to him still more\nstrange.\n\n\"If one,\" said he to himself, \"had but that bird that's singing up\nthere, so plain that one of us could hardly match him! What can he mean\nby that wonderful song? The whole of it is, it must be a feathered\nwitch. My rams have only pinchbeck bells, he calls them rich cattle; but\nI have a silver bell, and he sings nothing about me.\"\n\nWith these words he began to fumble in his pocket, took out his bell,\nand rang it.\n\nThe bird in the air instantly saw what it was, and rejoiced beyond\nmeasure. He vanished in a second, flew behind the nearest bush,\nalighted, and drew off his speckled feather dress, and turned himself\ninto an old woman dressed in tattered clothes. The old dame, well\nsupplied with sighs and groans, tottered across the field to the\nshepherd-boy, who was still ringing his bell and wondering what was\nbecome of the beautiful bird. She cleared her throat, and coughing, bid\nhim a kind good evening, and asked him which was the way to Bergen.\nPretending then that she had just seen the little bell, she exclaimed--\n\n\"Well now, what a charming pretty little bell! Well, in all my life, I\nnever beheld anything more beautiful. Hark ye, my son, will you sell me\nthat bell? What may be the price of it? I have a little grandson at\nhome, and such a nice plaything as it would make for him!\"\n\n\"No,\" replied the boy, quite short; \"the bell is not for sale. It is a\nbell that there is not such another bell in the whole world. I have only\nto give it a little tinkle, and my sheep run of themselves wherever I\nwould have them go. And what a delightful sound it has! Only listen,\nmother,\" said he, ringing it; \"is there any weariness in the world that\ncan hold out against this bell? I can ring with it away the longest\ntime, so that it will be gone in a second.\"\n\nThe old woman thought to herself--\n\n\"We will see if he can hold out against bright shining money,\" and she\ntook out no less than three silver dollars and offered them to him, but\nhe still replied--\n\n\"No, I will not sell the bell.\"\n\nShe then offered him five dollars.\n\n\"The bell is still mine,\" said he.\n\nShe stretched out her hand full of ducats. He replied this third time--\n\n\"Gold is dirt, and does not ring.\"\n\nThe old dame then shifted her ground, and turned the discourse another\nway. She grew mysterious, and began to entice him by talking of secret\narts and of charms by which his cattle might be made to thrive\nprodigiously, relating to him all kinds of wonders of them. It was then\nthe young shepherd began to long, and he lent a willing ear to her\ntales.\n\nThe end of the matter was, that she said to him--\n\n\"Hark ye, my child, give me your bell; and see, here is a white stick\nfor you,\" said she, taking out a little white stick which had Adam and\nEve very ingeniously cut upon it as they were feeding their flocks in\nthe Garden, with the fattest sheep and lambs dancing before them. There,\ntoo, was the shepherd David, as he stood up with his sling against the\ngiant Goliath. \"I will give you,\" said the woman, \"this stick for the\nbell, and as long as you drive the cattle with it they will be sure to\nthrive. With this you will become a rich shepherd. Your wethers will be\nalways fat a month sooner than the wethers of other shepherds, and every\none of your sheep will have two pounds of wool more than others, and yet\nno one will ever be able to see it on them.\"\n\nThe old woman handed him the stick. So mysterious was her gesture, and\nso strange and bewitching her smile, that the lad was at once in her\npower. He grasped eagerly at the stick, gave her his hand, and cried--\n\n\"Done! strike hands! The bell for the stick!\"\n\nCheerfully the old woman took the bell for the stick, and departed like\na light breeze over the field and the heath. He saw her vanish, and she\nseemed to float away before his eyes like a mist, and to go off with a\nslight whiz and whistle that made the shepherd's hair stand on end.\n\nThe underground one, however, who, in the shape of an old woman, had\nwheedled him out of his bell, had not deceived him. For the underground\npeople dare not lie, but must ever keep their word--a breach of it\nbeing followed by their sudden change into the shape of toads, snakes,\ndunghill beetles, wolves, and apes, forms in which they wander about,\nobjects of fear and aversion, for a long course of years before they are\nfreed. They have, therefore, naturally a great dread of lying. John\nSchlagenteufel gave close attention and made trial of his new shepherd's\nstaff, and he soon found that the old woman had told him the truth, for\nhis flocks and his work, and all the labour of his hands, prospered with\nhim, and he had wonderful luck, so that there was not a sheep-owner or\nhead shepherd but was desirous of having him in his employment.\n\nIt was not long, however, that he remained an underling. Before he was\neighteen years of age he had got his own flocks, and in the course of a\nfew years was the richest sheep-master in the whole island of Bergen. At\nlast he was able to buy a knight's estate for himself, and that estate\nwas Grabitz, close by Rambin, which now belongs to the Lords of Sunde.\nMy father knew him there, and how from a shepherd's boy he became a\nnobleman. He always conducted himself like a prudent, honest, and pious\nman, who had a good word for every one. He brought up his sons like\ngentlemen, and his daughters like ladies, some of whom are still alive,\nand accounted people of great consequence.\n\nWell may people who hear such stories wish that they had met with such\nan adventure, and had found a little silver bell which the underground\npeople had lost!\n\n\n\n\nMAIDEN SWANWHITE AND MAIDEN FOXTAIL.\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a wicked woman who had a daughter and a\nstep-daughter. The daughter was ugly and of an evil disposition, but the\nstep-daughter was most beautiful and good, and all who knew her wished\nher well. When the girl's step-mother and step-sister saw this they\nhated the poor girl.\n\nOne day it chanced that she was sent by her step-mother to the well to\ndraw water. When the girl came there she saw a little hand held out of\nthe water, and a voice said--\n\n\"Maiden, beautiful and good, give me your golden apple, and in return\nfor it I will thrice wish you well.\"\n\nThe girl thought that one who spoke so fairly to her would not do her an\nill turn, so she put the apple into the little hand. Then she bent down\nover the spring, and, taking care not to muddy the water, filled her\nbucket. As she went home the guardian of the well wished that the girl\nwould become thrice as beautiful as she was, that whenever she laughed a\ngold ring might fall from her mouth, and that red roses might spring up\nwherever she trod. The same hour all that he wished came to pass. From\nthat day the girl was called the Maiden Swanwhite, and the fame of her\nloveliness spread all through the land.\n\nWhen the wicked step-mother perceived this, she was filled with rage,\nand she thought how her own daughter might become as beautiful as\nSwanwhite. With this object she set herself to learn all that had\nhappened, and then she sent her own daughter to fetch water. When the\nwicked girl had come to the well, she saw a little hand rise up out of\nthe water, and heard a voice which said--\n\n\"Maiden, beautiful and good, give me your gold apple and I will thrice\nwish thee well.\"\n\nBut the hag's daughter was both wicked and avaricious, and it was not\nher way to make presents. She therefore made a dash at the little hand,\nwished the guardian of the well evil, and said pettishly--\n\n\"You need not think you'll get a gold apple from me.\"\n\nThen she filled her bucket, muddying the water, and away she went in a\nrage. The guardian of the well was enraged, so he wished her three evil\nwishes, as a punishment for her wickedness. He wished that she should\nbecome three times as ugly as she was, that a dead rat should fall from\nher mouth whenever she laughed, and that the fox-tail grass might spring\nup in the footsteps wherever she trod. So it was. From that day the\nwicked girl was called Maiden Foxtail, and very much talk was there\namong the folk of her strange looks and her ill-nature. The hag could\nnot bear her step-daughter should be more beautiful than her own\ndaughter, and poor Swanwhite had to put up with all the ill-usage and\nsuffering that a step-child can meet with.\n\nSwanwhite had a brother whom she loved very much, and he also loved her\nwith all his heart. He had long ago left home, and he was now the\nservant of a king, far, far off in a strange land. The other servants of\nthe king bore him no good-will because he was liked by his master, and\nthey wished to ruin him if they could find anything against him.\n\nThey watched him closely, and one day, coming to the king, said--\n\n\"Lord king, we know well that you do not like evil or vice in your\nservants. Thence we think it is only right to tell you that the young\nforeigner, who is in your service, every morning and evening bows the\nknee to an idol.\"\n\nWhen the king heard that he set it down to envy and ill-will, and did\nnot think there was any truth in it, but the courtiers said that he\ncould easily discover for himself whether what they said was true or\nnot. They led the king to the young man's rooms, and told him to look\nthrough the key-hole. When the king looked in he saw the young man on\nhis knees before a fine picture, and so he could not help believing that\nwhat the courtiers had told him was true.\n\nThe king was much enraged, and ordered the young man to come before\nhim, when he condemned him to die for his great wickedness.\n\n\"My lord king,\" said he, \"do not imagine that I worship any idol. That\nis my sister's picture, whom I commend to the care of God every morning\nand evening, asking Him to protect her, for she remains in a wicked\nstep-mother's power.\"\n\nThe king then wished to see the picture, and he never tired of looking\non its beauty.\n\n\"If it is true,\" said he, \"what you tell me, that that is your sister's\npicture, she shall be my queen, and you yourself shall go and fetch her;\nbut if you lie, this shall be your punishment,--you shall be cast into\nthe lions' den.\"\n\nThe king then commanded that a ship should be fitted out in grand style,\nhaving wine and treasure in it. Then he sent away the young man in great\nstate to fetch his beautiful sister to the court.\n\nThe young man sailed away over the ocean, and came at length to his\nland. Here he delivered his master's message, as became him, and made\npreparations to return. Then the step-mother and step-sister begged that\nthey might go with him and his sister. The young man had no liking for\nthem, so he said no, and refused their request, but Swanwhite begged for\nthem, and got them what they wanted.\n\nWhen they had put to sea and were on the wide ocean, a great storm arose\nso that the sailors expected the vessel and all on her to go to the\nbottom. The young man was, however, in good spirits, and went up the\nmast in order to see if he could discover land anywhere. When he had\nlooked out from the mast, he called to Swanwhite, who stood on the\ndeck--\n\n\"Dear sister, I see land now.\"\n\nIt was, however, blowing so hard that the maiden could not hear a word.\nShe asked her step-mother if she knew what her brother said.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the false hag; \"he says we shall never come to God's land\nunless you throw your gold casket into the sea.\"\n\nWhen Swanwhite heard that, she did what the hag told her, and cast the\ngold casket into the deep sea.\n\nA while after her brother once more called to his sister, who stood on\nthe deck--\n\n\"Swanwhite, go and deck yourself as a bride, for we shall soon be\nthere.\"\n\nBut the maiden could not hear a word for the raging of the sea. She\nasked her step-mother if she knew what her brother had said.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the false hag; \"he says we shall never come to God's land\nunless you cast yourself into the sea.\"\n\nWhile Swanwhite thought of this, the wicked step-mother sprang to her,\nand thrust her on a sudden overboard. The young girl was carried away by\nthe blue waves, and came to the mermaid who rules over all those who are\ndrowned in the sea.\n\nWhen the young man came down the mast, and asked whether his sister was\nattired, the step-mother told him many falsehoods about Swanwhite having\nfallen into the sea. When the young man heard this he and all the\nship-folk were afraid, for they well knew what punishment awaited them\nfor having so ill looked after the king's bride. The false hag then\nthought of another deception. She said they had better dress her own\ndaughter as the bride, and then no one need know that Swanwhite had\nperished. The young man would not agree to this, but the sailors, being\nin fear of their lives, made him do as the step-mother had suggested.\nMaiden Foxtail was dressed out in the finest manner with red rings and a\ngold girdle, but the young man was ill at ease, and could not forget\nwhat had happened to his sister.\n\nIn the midst of this the vessel came to shore, where was the king with\nall his court with much splendour awaiting their arrival. Carpets were\nspread upon the ground, and the king's bride left the ship in great\nstate. When the king beheld Maiden Foxtail, and was told that that was\nhis bride, he suspected some cheat, and was very angry, and he ordered\nthat the young man should be thrown into the lions' den. He would not,\nhowever, break his kingly word, so he took the ugly maiden for his wife,\nand she became queen in the place of her step-sister.\n\nNow Maiden Swanwhite had a little dog of which she was very fond, and\nshe called it Snow-white. Now that its mistress was lost, there was no\none who cared for it, so it came into the king's palace and took refuge\nin the kitchen, where it lay down in front of the fire. When it was\nnight and all had gone to bed, the master-cook saw the kitchen door open\nof itself and a beautiful little duck, fastened to a chain, came into\nthe kitchen. Wherever the little bird trod the most beautiful roses\nsprang up. The duck went up to the dog upon the hearth, and said--\n\n\"Poor little Snow-white! Once on a time you lay on blue silk cushions.\nNow you must lie on the grey ashes. Ah! my poor brother, who is in the\nlions' den! Shame on Maiden Foxtail! she sleeps in my lord's arms.\"\n\n\"Alas, poor me!\" continued the duck, \"I shall come here only on two more\nnights. After that I shall see you no more.\"\n\nThen it caressed the little dog, and the dog returned its caresses.\nAfter a little while the door opened of itself and the little bird went\nits way.\n\nThe next morning, when it was daylight, the master-cook took the\nbeautiful roses that lay strewn on the floor and with them decorated the\ndishes for the king's table. The king so much admired the flowers that\nhe ordered the master-cook to be called to him, and asked him where he\nhad found such magnificent roses. The cook told him all that had\nhappened, and what the duck had said to the little dog. When the king\nheard it he was much perplexed, and he told the cook to let him know as\nsoon as the bird showed itself again.\n\nThe next night the little duck again came to the kitchen, and spoke to\nthe dog as before. The cook sent word to the king, and he came just as\nthe bird went out at the door. However he saw the beautiful roses lying\nall over the kitchen floor, and from them came such a delightful scent\nthat the like had never been known.\n\nThe king made up his mind that if the duck came again he would see it,\nso he lay in wait for it. He waited a long while, when, at midnight, the\nlittle bird, as before, came walking up to the dog which lay on the\nhearth, and said--\n\n\"Poor little Snow-white! once on a time you lay on blue silk cushions.\nNow you must lie on grey ashes. Ah! my poor brother, who is in the\nlions' den. Shame on Maiden Foxtail! she sleeps in my lord's arms.\"\n\nThen it went on--\n\n\"Alas! poor me! I shall see thee no more.\"\n\nThen it caressed the little dog, and the dog returned its caresses. As\nthe bird was about to go away, the king sprang out and caught it by the\nfoot. Then the bird changed its form and became a horrible dragon, but\nthe king held it fast. It changed itself again, and took the forms of\nsnakes, wolves, and other fierce animals, but the king did not lose his\nhold. Then the mermaid pulled hard at the chain, but the king held so\nfast that the chain broke in two with a great snap and rattling. That\nmoment there stood there a beautiful maiden much more beautiful than\nthat in the fine picture. She thanked the king for having saved her\nfrom the power of the mermaid. The king was very glad, and took the\nbeautiful maiden in his arms, kissed her, and said--\n\n\"I will have no one else in the world for my queen, and now I well see\nthat your brother was guiltless.\"\n\nThen he sent off at once to the lions' den to learn if the young man was\nyet alive. There the young man was safe and sound among the wild beasts,\nwhich had done him no injury. Then the king was in a happy mood, and\nrejoiced that everything had chanced so well. The brother and sister\ntold him all that the step-mother had done.\n\nWhen it was daylight the king ordered a great feast to be got ready, and\nasked the foremost people in the country to the palace. As they all sat\nat table and were very merry, the king told a story of a brother and\nsister who had been treacherously dealt with by a step-mother, and he\nrelated all that had happened from beginning to end. When the tale was\nended the king's folk looked at one another, and all agreed that the\nconduct of the step-mother in the tale was a piece of unexampled\nwickedness.\n\nThe king turned to his mother-in-law, and said--\n\n\"Some one should reward my tale. I should like to know what punishment\nthe taking of such an innocent life deserves.\"\n\nThe false hag did not know that her own treachery was aimed at, so she\nsaid boldly--\n\n\"For my part, I certainly think she should be put into boiling lead.\"\n\nThe king then turned himself to Foxtail, and said--\n\n\"I should like to have your opinion; what punishment is merited by one\nwho takes so innocent a life?\"\n\nThe wicked woman answered at once--\n\n\"For my part, I think she deserves to be put into boiling tar.\"\n\nThen the king started up from the table in a great rage, and said--\n\n\"You have pronounced doom on yourselves. Such punishment shall you\nsuffer!\"\n\nHe ordered the two women to be taken out to die as they themselves had\nsaid, and no one save Swanwhite begged him to have mercy on them.\n\nAfter that the king was married to the beautiful maiden, and all folk\nagreed that nowhere could be found a finer queen. The king gave his own\nsister to the brave young man, and there was great joy in all the king's\npalace.\n\nThere they live prosperous and happy unto this day, for all I know.\n\n\n\n\nTALES OF TREASURE.\n\n\nThere are still to be seen near Flensborg the ruins of a very ancient\nbuilding. Two soldiers once stood on guard there together, but when one\nof them was gone to the town, it chanced that a tall white woman came to\nthe other, and spoke to him, and said--\n\n\"I am an unhappy spirit, who has wandered here these many hundred years,\nbut never shall I find rest in the grave.\"\n\nShe then informed him that under the walls of the castle a great\ntreasure was concealed, which only three men in the whole world could\ntake up, and that he was one of the three. The man, who now saw that his\nfortune was made, promised to follow her directions in every particular,\nwhereupon she desired him to come to the same place at twelve o'clock\nthe following night.\n\nThe other soldier meanwhile had come back from the town just as the\nappointment was made with his comrade. He said nothing about what,\nunseen, he had seen and heard, but went early the next evening and\nconcealed himself amongst some bushes. When his fellow-soldier came with\nhis spade and shovel he found the white woman at the appointed place,\nbut when she perceived they were watched she put off the appointed\nbusiness until the next evening. The man who had lain on the watch to no\npurpose went home, and suddenly fell ill; and as he thought he should\ndie of that sickness, he sent for his comrade, and told him how he knew\nall, and conjured him not to have anything to do with witches or with\nspirits, but rather to seek counsel of the priest, who was a prudent\nman. The other thought it would be the wisest plan to follow the advice\nof his comrade, so he went and discovered the whole affair to the\npriest, who, however, desired him to do as the spirit had bidden him,\nonly he was to make her lay the first hand to the work herself.\n\nThe appointed time was now arrived, and the man was at the place. When\nthe white woman had pointed out to him the spot, and they were just\nbeginning the work, she said to him that when the treasure was taken up\none-half of it should be his, but that he must divide the other half\nequally between the church and the poor. Then the devil entered into the\nman, and awakened his covetousness, so that he cried out--\n\n\"What! shall I not have the whole?\"\n\nScarcely had he spoken when the figure, with a most mournful wail,\npassed in a blue flame over the moat of the castle, and the man fell\nsick, and died within three days.\n\nThe story soon spread through the country, and a poor scholar who heard\nit thought he had now an opportunity of making his fortune. He therefore\nwent at midnight to the place, and there he met with the wandering white\nwoman, and he told her why he was come, and offered his services to\nraise the treasure. She, however, answered that he was not one of the\nthree, one of whom alone could free her, and that the wall in which was\nthe money would still remain so firm that no human being should be able\nto break it. She also told him that at some future time he should be\nrewarded for his good inclination; and, it is said, when a long time\nafter he passed by that place, and thought with compassion on the\nsufferings of the unblest woman, he fell on his face over a great heap\nof money, which soon put him again on his feet. The wall still remains\nundisturbed, and as often as any one has attempted to throw it down,\nwhatever is thrown down in the day is replaced again in the night.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThree men went once in the night-time to Klumhoei to try their luck, for\na dragon watches there over a great treasure. They dug into the ground,\ngiving each other a strict charge not to utter a word whatever might\nhappen, otherwise all their labour would be in vain. When they had dug\npretty deep, their spades struck against a copper chest. They then made\nsigns to one another, and all, with both hands, laid hold of a great\ncopper ring that was on the top of the chest, and pulled up the\ntreasure. When they had just got it into their possession, one of them\nforgot the necessity of silence, and shouted out--\n\n\"One pull more, and we have it!\"\n\nThat very instant the chest flew away out of their hands to the lake\nStoeierup, but as they all held hard on the ring it remained in their\ngrasp. They went and fastened the ring on the door of St. Olaf's church,\nand there it remains to this very day.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNear Dangstrup there is a hill which is called Dangbjerg Dons. Of this\nhill it is related that it is at all times covered with a blue mist, and\nthat under it there lies a large copper kettle full of money. One night\ntwo men went there to dig after this treasure, and they had got so far\nas to lay hold of the handle of the kettle. All sorts of wonderful\nthings began then to appear to disturb them at their work. One time a\ncoach, drawn by four black horses, drove by them. Then they saw a black\ndog with a fiery tongue. Then there came a cock drawing a load of hay.\nStill the men persisted in not letting themselves speak, and still dug\non without stopping. At last a fellow came limping up to them and said--\n\n\"See, Dangstrup is on fire!\"\n\nWhen the men looked towards the town, it appeared exactly as if the\nwhole place were in a bright flame. Then at length one of the men forgot\nto keep silence, and the moment he uttered an exclamation the treasure\nsank deeper and deeper, and as often since as any attempt has been made\nto get it up, the trolls have, by their spells and artifices, prevented\nits success.\n\n\n\n\nHOLGER DANSKE.\n\n\nThe Danish peasantry of the present day relate many wonderful things of\nan ancient hero whom they name Holger Danske, _i.e_. Danish Holger,\nand to whom they ascribe wonderful strength and dimensions.\n\nHolger Danske came one time to a town named Bagsvoer, in the isle of\nZealand, where, being in want of a new suit of clothes, he sent for\ntwelve tailors to make them. He was so tall that they were obliged to\nset ladders to his back and shoulders to take his measure. They measured\nand measured away, but unluckily a man, who was on the top of one of the\nladders, happened, as he was cutting a mark in the measure, to give\nHolger's ear a clip with the scissors. Holger, forgetting what was going\non, thinking that he was being bitten by a flea, put up his hand and\ncrushed the unlucky tailor to death between his fingers.\n\nIt is also said that a witch one time gave him a pair of spectacles\nwhich would enable him to see through the ground. He lay down at a place\nnot far from Copenhagen to make a trial of their powers, and as he put\nhis face close to the ground, he left in it the mark of his spectacles,\nwhich mark is to be seen at this very day, and the size of it proves\nwhat a goodly pair they must have been.\n\nTradition does not say at what time it was that this mighty hero\nhonoured the isles of the Baltic with his actual presence, but, in\nreturn, it informs us that Holger, like so many other heroes of renown,\n\"is not dead, but sleepeth.\" The clang of arms, we are told, was\nfrequently heard under the castle of Cronberg, but in all Denmark no one\ncould be found hardy enough to penetrate the subterranean recesses and\nascertain the cause. At length a slave, who had been condemned to death,\nwas offered his life and a pardon if he would go down, proceed through\nthe subterranean passage as far as it went, and bring an account of what\nhe should meet there. He accordingly descended, and went along till he\ncame to a great iron door, which opened of itself the instant he knocked\nat it, and he beheld before him a deep vault. From the roof in the\ncentre hung a lamp whose flame was nearly extinct, and beneath was a\nhuge great stone table, around which sat steel-clad warriors, bowed down\nover it, each with his head on his crossed arms. He who was seated at\nthe head of the board then raised himself up. This was Holger Danske.\nWhen he had lifted his head up from off his arms, the stone table split\nthroughout, for his beard was grown into it.\n\n\"Give me thy hand,\" said he to the intruder.\n\nThe slave feared to trust his hand in the grasp of the ancient warrior,\nand he reached him the end of an iron bar which he had brought with him.\nHolger squeezed it so hard, that the mark of his hand remained in it. He\nlet it go at last, saying--\n\n\"Well! I am glad to find there are still men in Denmark.\"\n\n\n\n\nTALES FROM THE PROSE EDDA\n\nTHE GODS AND THE WOLF.\n\n\nAmong the AEsir, or gods, is reckoned one named Loki or Loptur. By many\nhe is called the reviler of the gods, the author of all fraud and\nmischief, and the shame of gods and men alike. He is the son of the\ngiant Farbauti, his mother being Laufey or Nal, and his brothers Byleist\nand Helblindi. He is of a goodly appearance and elegant form, but his\nmood is changeable, and he is inclined to all wickedness. In cunning and\nperfidy he excels every one, and many a time has he placed the gods in\ngreat danger, and often has he saved them again by his cunning. He has a\nwife named Siguna, and their son is called Nari.\n\nLoki had three children by Angurbodi, a giantess of Jotunheim (the\ngiants' home). The first of these was Fenris, the wolf; the second was\nJoermungand, the Midgard serpent; and the third was Hela, death. Very\nsoon did the gods become aware of this evil progeny which was being\nreared in Jotunheim, and by divination they discovered that they must\nreceive great injury from them. That they had such a mother spoke bad\nfor them, but their coming of such a sire was a still worse presage.\nAll-father therefore despatched certain of the gods to bring the\nchildren to him, and when they were brought before him he cast the\nserpent down into the ocean which surrounds the world. There the monster\nwaxed so large that he wound himself round the whole globe, and that\nwith such ease that he can with his mouth lay hold of his tail. Hela\nAll-father cast into Niflheim, where she rules over nine worlds. Into\nthese she distributes all those who are sent to her,--that is to say,\nall who die through sickness or old age. She has there an abode with\nvery thick walls, and fenced with strong gates. Her hall is Elvidnir;\nher table is Hunger; her knife, Starvation; her man-servant, Delay; her\nmaid-servant, Sloth; her threshold, Precipice; her bed, Care; and her\ncurtains, Anguish of Soul. The one half of her body is livid, the other\nhalf is flesh-colour. She has a terrible look, so that she can be easily\nknown.\n\nAs to the wolf, Fenris, the gods let him grow up among themselves, Tyr\nbeing the only one of them who dare give him his food. When, however,\nthey perceived how he every day increased prodigiously in size, and that\nthe oracles warned them that he would one day prove fatal to them, they\ndetermined to make very strong iron fetters for him which they called\nLoeding. These they presented to the wolf, and desired him to put them\non to show his strength by endeavouring to break them. The wolf saw that\nit would not be difficult for him to burst them, so he let the gods put\nthe fetters on him, then violently stretching himself he broke the\nfetters asunder, and set himself free.\n\nHaving seen this, the gods went to work, and prepared a second set of\nfetters, called Dromi, half as strong again as the former, and these\nthey persuaded the wolf to put on, assuring him that if he broke them he\nwould then furnish them with an undeniable proof of his power. The wolf\nsaw well enough that it would not be easy to break this set, but he\nconsidered that he had himself increased in strength since he broke the\nothers, and he knew that without running some risk he could never become\ncelebrated. He therefore allowed the gods to place the fetters on him.\nThen Fenris shook himself, stretched his limbs, rolled on the ground,\nand at length burst the fetters, which he made fly in all directions.\nThus did he free himself the second time from his chains, and from this\nhas arisen the saying, \"To get free from Loeding, or to burst from\nDromi,\" meaning to perform something by strong exertion.\n\nThe gods now despaired of ever being able to secure the wolf with any\nchain of their own making. All-father, however, sent Skirnir, the\nmessenger of the god Frey, into the country of the Black Elves, to the\ndwarfs, to ask them to make a chain to bind Fenris with. This chain was\ncomposed of six things--the noise made by the fall of a cat's foot, the\nhair of a woman's beard, the roots of stones, the nerves of bears, the\nbreath of fish, and the spittle of birds.\n\nThe fetters were as smooth and as soft as silk, and yet, as you will\npresently see, of great strength. The gods were very thankful for them\nwhen they were brought to them, and returned many thanks to him who\nbrought them. Then they took the wolf with them on to the island Lyngvi,\nwhich is in the lake Amsvartnir, and there they showed him the chain,\ndesiring him to try his strength in breaking it. At the same time they\ntold him that it was a good deal stronger than it looked. They took it\nin their own hands and pulled at it, attempting in vain to break it, and\nthen they said to Fenris--\n\n\"No one else but you, Fenris, can break it.\"\n\n\"I don't see,\" replied the wolf, \"that I shall gain any glory by\nbreaking such a slight string, but if any artifice has been employed in\nthe making of it, you may be sure, though it looks so fragile, it shall\nnever touch foot of mine.\"\n\nThe gods told him he would easily break so slight a bandage, since he\nhad already broken asunder shackles of iron of the most solid make.\n\n\"But,\" said they, \"if you should not be able to break the chain, you are\ntoo feeble to cause us any anxiety, and we shall not hesitate to loose\nyou again.\"\n\n\"I very much fear,\" replied the wolf, \"that if you once tie me up so\nfast that I cannot release myself, you will be in no haste to unloose\nme. I am, therefore, unwilling to have this cord wound around me; but to\nshow you I am no coward, I will agree to it, but one of you must put his\nhand in my mouth, as a pledge that you intend me no deceit.\"\n\nThe gods looked on one another wistfully, for they found themselves in\nan embarrassing position.\n\nThen Tyr stepped forward and bravely put his right hand in the monster's\nmouth. The gods then tied up the wolf, who forcibly stretched himself,\nas he had formerly done, and exerted all his powers to disengage\nhimself; but the more efforts he made the tighter he drew the chain\nabout him, and then all the gods, except Tyr, who lost his hand, burst\nout into laughter at the sight. Seeing that he was so fast tied that he\nwould never be able to get loose again, they took one end of the chain,\nwhich was called Gelgja, and having drilled a hole for it, drew it\nthrough the middle of a large broad rock, which they sank very deep in\nthe earth. Afterwards, to make all still more secure, they tied the end\nof the chain, which came through the rock to a great stone called\nKeviti, which they sank still deeper. The wolf used his utmost power to\nfree himself, and, opening his mouth, tried to bite them. When the gods\nsaw that they took a sword and thrust it into his mouth, so that it\nentered his under jaw right up to the hilt, and the point reached his\npalate. He howled in the most terrible manner, and since then the foam\nhas poured from his mouth in such abundance that it forms the river\ncalled Von. So the wolf must remain until Ragnaroek.\n\nSuch a wicked race has Loki begot. The gods would not put the wolf to\ndeath because they respected the sanctity of the place, which forbade\nblood being shed there.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STRANGE BUILDER.\n\n\nOnce upon a time, when the gods were building their abodes, a certain\nbuilder came and offered to erect them, in the space of three\nhalf-years, a city so well fortified that they should be quite safe in\nit from the incursions of the forest-giants and the giants of the\nmountains, even although these foes should have already penetrated\nwithin the enclosure Midgard. He asked, however, for his reward, the\ngoddess Freyja, together with the sun and moon. The gods thought over\nthe matter a long while, and at length agreed to his terms, on the\nunderstanding that he would finish the whole work himself without any\none's assistance, and that all was to be finished within the space of\none single winter. If anything remained to be done when the first day of\nsummer came, the builder was to entirely forfeit the reward agreed on.\nWhen the builder was told this he asked that he might be allowed the use\nof his horse, Svadilfari, and to this the gods, by the advice of Loki,\nagreed.\n\nOn the first day of winter the builder set to work, and during the night\nhe caused his horse to draw stones for the building. The gods beheld\nwith astonishment the extraordinary size of these, and marked with\nwonder that the horse did much more work than his master. The contract\nbetween them and the giant had, however, been confirmed with many oaths\nand in the presence of many witnesses, for without such a precaution a\ngiant would not have trusted himself among the gods, especially at a\ntime when Thor was returning from an expedition he had made into the\neast against the giants.\n\nThe winter was far advanced, and towards its end the city had been built\nso strongly and so lofty as to be almost secure. The time was nearly\nexpired, only three days remaining, and nothing was wanted to complete\nthe work save the gates, which were not yet put up. The gods then began\nto deliberate, and to ask one another who it was that had advised that\nFreyja should be given to one who dwelt in Jotunheim, and that they\nshould plunge the heavens in darkness by allowing one to carry away with\nhim the sun and moon. They all agreed that only Loki could have given\nsuch bad counsel, and that it would be only just to either make him\ncontrive some way or other to prevent the builder accomplishing his work\nand having a right to claim his reward, or to put him to death. They at\nonce laid hands on Loki, who, in his fright, promised upon oath to do\nwhat they desired, let it cost him what it might.\n\nThat very night, while the builder was employing his horse to convey\nstones, a mare suddenly ran out of a neighbouring forest and commenced\nto neigh. The horse broke loose and ran after the mare into the forest,\nand the builder ran after his horse.\n\nBetween one thing and another the whole night was lost, so that when day\nbroke the work was not completed.\n\nThe builder, recognising that he could by no means finish his task,\ntook again his giant form; and the gods, seeing that it was a\nmountain-giant with whom they had to deal, feeling that their oath did\nnot bind them, called on Thor. He at once ran to them, and paid the\nbuilder his fee with a blow of his hammer which shattered his skull to\npieces and threw him down headlong into Niflhel.\n\nThe horse Sleipner comes of the horse Svadilfari, and it excels all\nothers possessed by gods or men.\n\n\n\n\nTHOR'S JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF GIANTS.\n\n\nOne day the god Thor set out with Loki in his chariot drawn by two\nhe-goats. Night coming on they were obliged to put up at a peasant's\ncottage, when Thor slew his goats, and having skinned them, had them put\ninto the pot. When this had been done he sat down to supper and invited\nthe peasant and his children to take part in the feast. The peasant had\na son named Thjalfi, and a daughter, Roeska. Thor told them to throw the\nbones into the goatskins, which were spread out near the hearth, but\nyoung Thjalfi, in order to get at the marrow, broke one of the shank\nbones with his knife. Having passed the night in this place, Thor rose\nearly in the morning, and having dressed himself, held up his hammer,\nMjolnir, and thus consecrating the goatskins; he had no sooner done it\nthan the two goats took again their usual form, only one of them was now\nlame in one of its hind-legs. When Thor saw this he at once knew that\nthe peasant or one of his family had handled the bones of the goat too\nroughly, for one was broken. They were terribly afraid when Thor knit\nhis brows, rolled his eyes, seized his hammer, and grasped it with such\nforce that the very joints of his fingers were white again. The peasant,\ntrembling, and fearful that he would be struck down by the looks of the\ngod, begged with his family for pardon, offering whatever they possessed\nto repair the damage they might have done. Thor allowed them to appease\nhim, and contented himself with taking with him Thjalfi and Roeska, who\nbecame his servants, and have since followed him.\n\nLeaving his goats at that place, Thor set out to the east, to the\ncountry of the giants. At length they came to the shore of a wide and\ndeep sea which Thor, with Loki, Thjalfi, and Roeska passed over. Then\nthey came to a strange country, and entered an immense forest in which\nthey journeyed all day. Thjalfi was unexcelled by any man as a runner,\nand he carried Thor's bag, but in the forest they could find nothing\neatable to put in it. As night came on they searched on all sides for a\nplace where they might sleep, and at last they came to what appeared to\nbe a large hall, the gate of which was so large that it took up the\nwhole of one side of the building. Here they lay down to sleep, but\nabout the middle of the night they were alarmed by what seemed to be an\nearthquake which shook the whole of the building. Thor, rising, called\nhis companions to seek with him some safer place. Leaving the apartment\nthey were in, they found on their right hand an adjoining chamber into\nwhich they entered, but while the others, trembling with fear, crept to\nthe farthest corner of their retreat, Thor, armed with his mace,\nremained at the entrance ready to defend himself, happen what might.\nThroughout the night they heard a terrible groaning, and when the\nmorning came, Thor, going out, observed a man of enormous size, lying\nnear, asleep and snoring heavily. Then Thor knew that this was the noise\nhe had heard during the night. He immediately girded on his belt of\nprowess which had the virtue of increasing his strength. The giant awoke\nand stood up, and it is said that for once Thor was too frightened to\nuse his hammer, and he therefore contented himself with inquiring the\ngiant's name.\n\n\"My name,\" replied the giant, \"is Skrymir. As for you it is not\nnecessary I should ask your name. You are the god Thor. Tell me, what\nhave you done with my glove?\"\n\nThen Skrymir stretched out his hand and took it up, and Thor saw that\nwhat he and his companions had taken for a hall in which they had passed\nthe night, was the giant's glove, the chamber into which they had\nretreated being only the thumb.\n\nSkrymir asked whether they might not be friends, and Thor agreeing, the\ngiant opened his bag and took out something to eat. Thor and his\ncompanions also made their morning meal, but eat in another place. Then\nSkrymir, proposing that they should put their provisions together, and\nThor assenting to it, put all into one bag, and laying it on his\nshoulder marched before them, with huge strides, during the whole day.\nAt night he found a place where Thor and his companions might rest under\nan oak. There, he said, he would lie down and sleep.\n\n\"You take the bag,\" said he, \"and make your supper.\"\n\nHe was soon asleep, and, strange as it may seem, when Thor tried to open\nthe bag he could not untie a single knot nor loose the string. Enraged\nat this he seized his hammer, swayed it in both his hands, took a step\nforward, and hurled it at the giant's head. This awoke the giant, who\nasked him if a leaf had not fallen on his head, and whether they had\nfinished their supper. Thor said they were just about to lie down to\nsleep, and went to lie under another oak-tree. About midnight, observing\nthat Skrymir was snoring so loudly that the forest re-echoed the din,\nThor grasped his hammer and hurled it with such force at him that it\nsank up to the handle in his head.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" asked he, awakening. \"Did an acorn fall on my\nhead? How are you going on, Thor?\"\n\nThor departed at once, saying that it was only midnight and that he\nhoped to get some more sleep yet. He resolved, however, to have a third\nblow at the giant, hoping that with this he might settle everything.\nSeizing his hammer, he, with all his force, threw it at the giant's\ncheek, into which it buried itself up to the handle. Skrymir, awaking,\nput his hand to his cheek, and said--\n\n\"Are there any birds perched on this tree? I thought some moss fell upon\nme. How! art thou awake, Thor? It is time, is it not, for us to get up\nand dress ourselves? You have not far, however, to go before you arrive\nat the city Utgard. I have heard you whispering together that I am a\nvery tall fellow, but there you will see many larger than me. Let me\nadvise you then when you get there not to take too much upon yourselves,\nfor the men of Utgard-Loki will not bear much from such little folk as\nyou. I believe your best way would even be to turn back again, but if\nyou are determined to proceed take the road that goes towards the east,\nas for me mine now lies to the north.\"\n\nAfter he had said this, he put his bag upon his shoulder and turned away\ninto a forest; and I could never hear that Thor wished him a good\njourney.\n\nProceeding on his way with his companions, Thor saw towards noon a city\nsituated in the middle of a vast plain. The wall of the city was so\nlofty that one could not look up to the top of it without throwing one's\nhead quite back upon the shoulder. On coming to the wall, they found the\ngate-way closed with bars, which Thor never could have opened, but he\nand his companions crept in between them, and thus entered the place.\nBefore them was a large palace, and as the door of it was open, they\nentered and found a number of men of enormous size, seated on benches.\nGoing on they came into the presence of the king, Utgard-Loki, whom they\nsaluted with great respect, but he, looking upon them for a time, at\nlength cast a scornful glance at them, and burst into laughter.\n\n\"It would take up too much time,\" said he, \"to ask you concerning the\nlong journey you have made, but if I am not mistaken that little man\nthere is Aku-Thor. You may,\" said he to Thor, \"be bigger than you seem\nto be. What are you and your companions skilled in that we may see what\nthey can do, for no one may remain here unless he understands some art\nand excels in it all other men?\"\n\n\"I,\" said Loki, \"can eat quicker than any one else, and of that I am\nready to give proof if there is here any one who will compete with me.\"\n\n\"It must, indeed, be owned,\" replied the king, \"that you are not wanting\nin dexterity, if you are able to do what you say. Come, let us test it.\"\n\nThen he ordered one of his followers who was sitting at the further end\nof the bench, and whose name was Logi (Flame) to come forward, and try\nhis skill with Loki. A great tub or trough full of flesh meat was placed\nin the hall, and Loki having placed himself at one end of the trough,\nand Logi having set himself at the other end, the two commenced to eat.\nPresently they met in the middle of the trough, but Loki had only\ndevoured the flesh of his portion, whereas the other had devoured both\nflesh and bones. All the company therefore decided that Loki was\nbeaten.\n\nThen Utgard-Loki asked what the young man could do who accompanied Thor.\nThjalfi said that in running he would compete with any one. The king\nadmitted that skill in running was something very good, but he thought\nThjalfi must exert himself to the utmost to win in the contest. He rose\nand, accompanied by all the company, went to a plain where there was a\ngood place for the match, and then calling a young man named Hugi\n(Spirit or Thought), he ordered him to run with Thjalfi. In the first\nrace Hugi ran so fast away from Thjalfi that on his returning to the\nstarting-place he met him not far from it. Then said the king--\n\n\"If you are to win, Thjalfi, you must run faster, though I must own no\nman has ever come here who was swifter of foot.\"\n\nIn the second trial, Thjalfi was a full bow-shot from the boundary when\nHugi arrived at it.\n\n\"Very well do you run, Thjalfi,\" said Utgard-Loki; \"but I do not think\nyou will gain the prize. However, the third trial will decide.\"\n\nThey ran a third time, but Hugi had already reached the goal before\nThjalfi had got half-way. Then all present cried out that there had been\na sufficient trial of skill in that exercise.\n\nThen Utgard-Loki asked Thor in what manner he would choose to give them\na proof of the dexterity for which he was so famous. Thor replied that\nhe would contest the prize for drinking with any one in the court.\nUtgard-Loki consented to the match, and going into the palace, ordered\nhis cup-bearer to bring the large horn out of which his followers were\nobliged to drink when they had trespassed in any way against the customs\nof the court. The cup-bearer presented this to Thor, and Utgard-Loki\nsaid--\n\n\"Whoever is a good drinker will empty that horn at a draught. Some men\nmake two draughts of it, but the most puny drinker of all can empty it\nin three.\"\n\nThor looked at the horn, which seemed very long, but was otherwise of no\nextraordinary size. He put it to his mouth, and, without drawing breath,\npulled as long and as deeply as he could, that he might not be obliged\nto make a second draught of it. When, however, he set the horn down and\nlooked in it he could scarcely perceive that any of the liquor was gone.\n\n\"You have drunk well,\" said Utgard-Loki; \"but you need not boast. Had it\nbeen told me that Asu-Thor could only drink so little, I should not have\ncredited it. No doubt you will do better at the second pull.\"\n\nWithout a word, Thor again set the horn to his lips and exerted himself\nto the utmost. When he looked in it seemed to him that he had not drunk\nquite so much as before, but the horn could now be carried without\ndanger of spilling the liquor. Then Utgard-Loki said--\n\n\"Well, Thor, you should not spare yourself more than befits you in such\ndrinking. If now you mean to drink off the horn the third time it seems\nto me you must drink more than you have done. You will never be reckoned\nso great a man amongst us as the AEsir make you out to be if you cannot\ndo better in other games than it appears to me you will do in this.\"\n\nThor, angry, put the horn to his mouth and drank the best he could and\nas long as he was able, but when he looked into the horn the liquor was\nonly a little lower. Then he gave the horn to the cup-bearer, and would\ndrink no more.\n\nThen said Utgard-Loki--\n\n\"It is plain that you are not so mighty as we imagined. Will you try\nanother game? It seems to me there is little chance of your taking a\nprize hence.\"\n\n\"I will try more contests yet,\" answered Thor. \"Such draughts as I have\ndrunk would not have seemed small to the AEsir. But what new game have\nyou?\"\n\nUtgard-Loki answered--\n\n\"The lads here do a thing which is not much. They lift my cat up from\nthe ground. I should not have thought of proposing such a feat to\nAsu-Thor, had I not first seen that he is less by far than we took him\nto be.\"\n\nAs he spoke there sprang upon the hall floor a very large grey cat. Thor\nwent up to it and put his hand under its middle and tried to lift it\nfrom the floor. The cat bent its back as Thor raised his hands, and when\nThor had exerted himself to the utmost the cat had only one foot off the\nfloor. Then Thor would make no further trial.\n\n\"I thought this game would go so,\" said Utgard-Loki. \"The cat is large\nand Thor is little when compared with our men.\"\n\n\"Little as you call me,\" answered Thor, \"let any one come here and\nwrestle with me, for now I am angry.\"\n\nUtgard-Loki looked along the benches, and said--\n\n\"I see no man here who would not think it absurd to wrestle with you,\nbut let some one call here the old woman, my nurse, Elli, and let Thor\nwrestle with her, if he will. She has cast to the ground many a man who\nseemed to me to be as strong as Thor.\"\n\nThen came into the hall a toothless old woman, and Utgard-Loki told her\nto wrestle with Asu-Thor. The story is not a long one. The harder Thor\ntightened his hold, the firmer the old woman stood. Then she began to\nexert herself, Thor tottered, and at last, after a violent tussle, he\nfell on one knee. On this Utgard-Loki told them to stop, adding that\nThor could not desire any one else to wrestle with him in the hall, and\nthe night had closed in. He showed Thor and his companions to seats, and\nthey passed the night, faring well.\n\nAt daybreak the next morning, Thor and his companions rose, dressed\nthemselves, and prepared to leave at once. Then Utgard-Loki came to them\nand ordered a table to be set for them having on it plenty of meat and\ndrink. Afterwards he led them out of the city, and on parting asked Thor\nhow he thought his journey had prospered, and whether he had met with\nany stronger than himself. Thor said he must own he had been much\nshamed.\n\n\"And,\" said he, \"I know you will call me a man of little might, and I\ncan badly bear that.\"\n\n\"Shall I tell you the truth?\" said Utgard-Loki. \"We are now out of the\ncity, and while I live and have my own way, you will never again enter\nit. By my word you had never come in had I known before you had been so\nstrong and would bring us so near to great misfortune. I have deluded\nthee with vain shows; first in the forest, where I met you, and where\nyou were unable to untie the wallet because I had bound it with\niron-thread so that you could not discover where the knot could be\nloosened. After that you gave me three blows with your hammer. The first\nblow, though the lightest, would have killed me had it fallen on me, but\nI put a rock in my place which you did not see. In that rocky mountain\nyou will find three dales, one of which is very deep, those are the\ndints made by your hammer. In the other games, I have deceived you with\nillusions. The first one was the match with Loki. He was hungry and eat\nfast, but Logi was Flame, and he consumed not only the flesh but the\ntrough with it. When Thjalfi contended with Hugi in running, Hugi was my\nthought, and it was not possible for Thjalfi to excel that in swiftness.\nWhen you drank of the horn and the liquor seemed to get lower so slowly,\nyou did, indeed, so well that had I not seen it, I should never have\nbelieved it. You did not see that one end of the horn was in the sea,\nbut when you come to the shore you will see how much the sea has shrunk\nin consequence of your draughts, which have caused what is called the\nebb. Nor did you do a less wondrous thing when you lifted up the cat,\nand I can assure you all were afraid when you raised one of its paws off\nthe ground. The cat was the great Midgard serpent which lies stretched\nround the whole earth, and when you raised it so high then did its\nlength barely suffice to enclose the earth between its head and tail.\nYour wrestling match with Elli was, too, a great feat, for no one has\nthere been yet, and no one shall there be whom old age does not come and\ntrip up, if he but await her coming. Now we must part, and let me say\nthat it will be better for both of us if you never more come to seek me,\nfor I shall always defend my city with tricks, so that you will never\novercome me.\"\n\nWhen Thor heard that he grasped his mace in a rage, and raised it to\nhurl it at Utgard-Loki, but he had disappeared. Then Thor wanted to\nreturn to the city, but he could see nothing but a wide fair plain. So\nhe turned, and went on his way till he came to Thrudvang, resolving if\nhe had an opportunity to attack the Midgard serpent.\n\n\nHOW THOR WENT A-FISHING.\n\nThor had not been long at home before he left it so hastily that he did\nnot take his car, his goats, or any follower with him. He left Midgard\ndisguised as a young man, and when night was coming on, arrived at the\nhouse of a giant, called Hymir. Thor stayed there as a guest for the\nnight, and when he saw in the morning that the giant rose, dressed\nhimself, and prepared to go out to sea-fishing in his boat, he begged\nhim to let him go also. Hymir said he was too little and young to be of\nmuch use.\n\n\"And besides,\" added he, \"you will die of cold, if I go so far out and\nsit so long as I am accustomed.\"\n\nThor said he would row as far out as ever Hymir wanted, and he thought\nhe might not be the first to want to row back. While he said this he was\nin such a rage that he had much to do to keep himself from throwing the\nhammer at once at the giant's head, but he calmed himself thinking that\nhe might soon try his strength elsewhere. He asked Hymir what bait he\nshould use, but Hymir told him to look out for himself. Then Thor went\nup to a herd of oxen belonging to Hymir, and capturing the largest bull,\ncalled Himinbrjot, he wrung off its head, and went with it to the\nsea-shore. Hymir launched the skiff, and Thor, sitting down in the\nafter-part, rowed with two oars so that Hymir, who rowed in the\nfore-part, wondered to see how fast the boat went on. At length he said\nthey had arrived at the place where he was accustomed to fish for flat\nfish, but Thor told him they had better go on further. So they rowed\ntill Hymir cried out that if they proceeded further they might be in\ndanger from the Midgard serpent. In spite of this, Thor said he would\nrow further, and so he rowed on, disregarding Hymir's words. When he\nlaid down his oars, he took out a very strong fishing line to which was\na no less strong hook. On this he fixed the bull's head and cast it over\ninto the sea. The bait soon reached the ground, and then truly Thor\ndeceived the Midgard serpent no less than Utgard-Loki deceived Thor when\nhe gave him the serpent to lift in his hand. The Midgard serpent gaped\nwide at the bait, and the hook stuck fast in his mouth. When the worm\nfelt this he tugged at the hook so that Thor's hands were dashed against\nthe side of the boat. Then Thor got angry, and, collecting to himself\nall his divine strength, he pulled so hard that his feet went through\nthe bottom of the boat and down to the sea's bottom. Then he drew the\nserpent up on board. No one can be said to have seen an ugly sight who\ndid not see that. Thor threw wrathful looks on the serpent, and the\nmonster staring at him from below cast out venom at him. The giant\nHymir, it is said, turned pale when he saw the serpent, quaked, and,\nseeing that the sea ran in and out of the skiff, just as Thor raised\naloft his mace, took out his knife and cut the line so that the serpent\nat once sank under the water. Thor cast his mace at the serpent, and\nsome say it cut off its head at the bottom, but it is more true that the\nMidgard serpent is yet alive lying at the bottom of the ocean. With his\nfist Thor struck Hymir such a blow over the ear that the giant tumbled\nheadlong into the water, and Thor then waded to land.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DEATH OF BALDUR.\n\n\nBaldur the Good had dreams which forewarned him that his life was in\ndanger, and he told the gods of them. The gods took counsel together\nwhat should be done, and it was agreed that they should conjure away all\ndanger that might threaten him. Frigga took an oath of fire, water,\niron, and all other metals, stones, earth, trees, sicknesses, beasts,\nbirds, poisons, and worms, that these would none of them hurt Baldur.\nWhen this had been done the gods used to divert themselves, Baldur\nstanding up in the assembly, and all the others throwing at him, hewing\nat him, and smiting him with stones, for, do all they would, he received\nno hurt, and in this sport all enjoyed themselves.\n\nLoki, however, looked on with envy when he saw that Baldur was not hurt.\nSo he assumed the form of a woman, and set out to Fensalir to Frigga.\nFrigga asked if the stranger knew what the gods did when they met. He\nanswered that they all shot at Baldur and he was not hurt.\n\n\"No weapon, nor tree may hurt Baldur,\" answers Frigga, \"I have taken an\noath of them all not to do so.\"\n\n\"What,\" said the pretended woman, \"have all things then sworn to spare\nBaldur?\"\n\n\"There is only one little twig which grows to the east of Valhalla,\nwhich is called the mistletoe. Of that I took no oath, for it seemed to\nme too young and feeble to do any hurt.\"\n\nThen the strange woman departed, and Loki having found the mistletoe,\ncut it off, and went to the assembly. There he found Hodur standing\napart by himself, for he was blind. Then said Loki to him--\n\n\"Why do you not throw at Baldur?\"\n\n\"Because,\" said he, \"I am blind and cannot see him, and besides I have\nnothing to throw.\"\n\n\"Do as the others,\" said Loki, \"and honour Baldur as the rest do. I will\ndirect your aim. Throw this shaft at him.\"\n\nHodur took the mistletoe and, Loki directing him, aimed at Baldur. The\naim was good. The shaft pierced him through, and Baldur fell dead upon\nthe earth. Surely never was there a greater misfortune either among gods\nor men.\n\nWhen the gods saw that Baldur was dead then they were silent, aghast,\nand stood motionless. They looked on one another, and were all agreed as\nto what he deserved who had done the deed, but out of respect to the\nplace none dared avenge Baldur's death. They broke the silence at length\nwith wailing, words failing them with which to express their sorrow.\nOdin, as was right, was more sorrowful than any of the others, for he\nbest knew what a loss the gods had sustained.\n\nAt last when the gods had recovered themselves, Frigga asked--\n\n\"Who is there among the gods who will win my love and good-will? That\nshall he have if he will ride to Hel, and seek Baldur, and offer Hela a\nreward if she will let Baldur come home to Asgard.\"\n\nHermod the nimble, Odin's lad, said he would make the journey. So he\nmounted Odin's horse, Sleipner, and went his way.\n\nThe gods took Baldur's body down to the sea-shore, where stood\nHringhorn, Baldur's vessel, the biggest in the world. When the gods\ntried to launch it into the water, in order to make on it a funeral fire\nfor Baldur, the ship would not stir. Then they despatched one to\nJotunheim for the sorceress called Hyrrokin, who came riding on a wolf\nwith twisted serpents by way of reins. Odin called for four Berserkir to\nhold the horse, but they could not secure it till they had thrown it to\nthe ground. Then Hyrrokin went to the stem of the ship, and set it\nafloat with a single touch, the vessel going so fast that fire sprang\nfrom the rollers, and the earth trembled. Then Thor was so angry that he\ntook his hammer and wanted to cast it at the woman's head, but the gods\npleaded for her and appeased him. The body of Baldur being placed on the\nship, Nanna, the daughter of Nep, Baldur's wife, seeing it, died of a\nbroken heart, so she was borne to the pile and thrown into the fire.\n\nThor stood up and consecrated the pile with Mjolnir. A little dwarf,\ncalled Litur, ran before his feet, and Thor gave him a push, and threw\nhim into the fire, and he was burnt. Many kinds of people came to this\nceremony. With Odin came Frigga and the Valkyrjor with his ravens. Frey\ndrove in a car drawn by the boar, Gullinbursti or Slidrugtanni. Heimdall\nrode the horse Gulltopp, and Freyja drove her cats. There were also many\nof the forest-giants and mountain-giants there. On the pile Odin laid\nthe gold ring called Draupnir, giving it the property that every ninth\nnight it produces eight rings of equal weight. In the same pile was also\nconsumed Baldur's horse.\n\nFor nine nights and days Hermod rode through deep valleys, so dark that\nhe could see nothing. Then he came to the river Gjoell which he crossed\nby the bridge which is covered with shining gold. The maid who keeps the\nbridge is called Modgudur. She asked Hermod his name and family, and\ntold him that on the former day there had ridden over the bridge five\nbands of dead men.\n\n\"They did not make my bridge ring as you do, and you have not the hue of\nthe dead. Why ride you thus on the way to Hel?\"\n\nHe said--\n\n\"I ride to Hel to find Baldur. Have you seen him on his way to that\nplace?\"\n\n\"Baldur,\" answered she, \"has passed over the bridge, but the way to Hel\nis below to the north.\"\n\nHermod rode on till he came to the entrance of Hel, which was guarded by\na grate. He dismounted, looked to the girths of his saddle, mounted, and\nclapping his spurs into the horse, cleared the grate easily. Then he\nrode on to the hall and, dismounting, entered it. There he saw his\nbrother, Baldur, seated in the first place, and there Hermod stopped\nthe night.\n\nIn the morning he saw Hela, and begged her to let Baldur ride home with\nhim, telling her how much the gods had sorrowed over his death. Hela\ntold him she would test whether it were true that Baldur was so much\nloved.\n\n\"If,\" said she, \"all things weep for him, then he shall return to the\ngods, but if any speak against him or refuse to weep, then he shall\nremain in Hel.\"\n\nThen Hermod rose to go, and Baldur, leading him out of the hall, gave\nhim the ring, Draupnir, which he wished Odin to have as a keepsake.\nNanna also sent Frigga a present, and a ring to Fulla.\n\nHermod rode back, and coming to Asgard related all he had seen and\nheard. Then the gods sent messengers over all the world seeking to get\nBaldur brought back again by weeping. All wept, men and living things,\nearth, stones, trees, and metals, all weeping as they do when they are\nsubjected to heat after frost. Then the messengers came back again,\nthinking they had done their errand well. On their way they came to a\ncave wherein sat a hag named Thaukt. The messengers prayed her to assist\nin weeping Baldur out of Hel.\n\n\"I will weep dry tears,\" answered she, \"over Baldur's pyre. What gain I\nby the son of man, be he live or dead? Let Hela hold what she has.\"\n\nIt was thought that this must have been Loki, Laufey's son, he who has\never wrought such harm to the gods.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PUNISHMENT OF LOKI.\n\n\nThe gods were so angry with Loki that he had to run away and hide\nhimself in the mountains, and there he built a house which had four\ndoors, so that he could see around him on every side. He would often in\nthe day-time change himself into a salmon and hide in the water called\nFranangursfors, and he thought over what trick the gods might devise to\ncapture him there. One day while he sat in his house, he took flax and\nyarn, and with it made meshes like those of a net, a fire burning in\nfront of him. Then he became aware that the gods were near at hand, for\nOdin had seen out of Hlidskjalf where he was. Loki sprang up, threw his\nwork into the fire, and went to the river. When the gods came to the\nhouse, the first that entered was Kvasir, who was the most acute of them\nall. In the hot embers he saw the ashes of a net, such as is used in\nfishing, and he told the gods of it, and they made a net like that which\nthey saw in the ashes. When it was ready they went to the river and cast\nthe net in, Thor holding one end and the rest of the gods the other, and\nso they drew it. Loki travelled in front of it and lay down between two\nstones so that the net went over him, but the gods felt that something\nliving had been against the net. Then they cast the net a second time,\nbinding up in it a weight so that nothing could pass under it. Loki\ntravelled before it till he saw the sea in front of him. Then he leapt\nover the top of the net and again made his way up the stream. The gods\nsaw this, so they once more dragged the stream, while Thor waded in the\nmiddle of it. So they went to the sea.\n\nThen Loki saw in what a dangerous situation he was. He must risk his\nlife if he swam out to sea. The only other alternative was to leap over\nthe net. That he did, jumping as quickly as he could over the top cord.\n\nThor snatched at him, and tried to hold him, but he slipped through his\nhand, and would have escaped, but for his tail, and this is the reason\nwhy salmon have their tails so thin.\n\nLoki being captured, they took him to a certain cavern, and they took\nthree rocks, through each of which they bored a hole. Then they took\nLoki's sons Vali and Nari, and having changed Vali into a wolf, he tore\nhis brother Nari into pieces. Then the gods took his intestines and\nbound Loki with them to the three stones, and they changed the cord into\nbands of iron. Skadi then took a serpent and suspended it over Loki's\nhead so that the venom drops from it on to his face. Siguna, Loki's\nwife, stands near him, and holds a dish receiving the venom as it falls,\nand when the dish is full she goes out and pours its contents away.\nWhile she is doing this, however, the venom falls on Loki, and causes\nhim such intense pain that he writhes so that the earth is shaken as if\nby an earthquake.\n\nThere he lies till Ragnaroek (the twilight of the gods).\n\n\n\n\nORIGIN OF TIIS LAKE.\n\n\nA troll had once taken up his abode near the village of Kund, in the\nhigh bank on which the church now stands, but when the people about\nthere had become pious, and went constantly to church, the troll was\ndreadfully annoyed by their almost incessant ringing of bells in the\nsteeple of the church. He was at last obliged, in consequence of it, to\ntake his departure, for nothing has more contributed to the emigration\nof the troll-folk out of the country, than the increasing piety of the\npeople, and their taking to bell-ringing. The troll of Kund accordingly\nquitted the country, and went over to Funen, where he lived for some\ntime in peace and quiet. Now it chanced that a man who had lately\nsettled in the town of Kund, coming to Funen on business, met this same\ntroll on the road.\n\n\"Where do you live?\" asked the troll.\n\nNow there was nothing whatever about the troll unlike a man, so he\nanswered him, as was the truth--\n\n\"I am from the town of Kund.\"\n\n\"So?\" said the troll, \"I don't know you then. And yet I think I know\nevery man in Kund. Will you, however,\" said he, \"be so kind as to take a\nletter for me back with you to Kund?\"\n\nThe man, of course, said he had no objection.\n\nThe troll put a letter into his pocket and charged him strictly not to\ntake it out until he came to Kund church. Then he was to throw it over\nthe churchyard wall, and the person for whom it was intended would get\nit.\n\nThe troll then went away in great haste, and with him the letter went\nentirely out of the man's mind. But when he was come back to Zealand he\nsat down by the meadow where Tiis lake now is, and suddenly recollected\nthe troll's letter. He felt a great desire to look at it at least, so he\ntook it out of his pocket and sat a while with it in his hands, when\nsuddenly there began to dribble a little water out of the seal. The\nletter now unfolded itself and the water came out faster and faster, and\nit was with the utmost difficulty the poor man was able to save his\nlife, for the malicious troll had enclosed a whole lake in the letter.\n\nThe troll, it is plain, had thought to avenge himself on Kund church by\ndestroying it in this manner, but God ordered it so that the lake\nchanced to run out in the great meadow where it now stands.\n\n\n\n\nTHERE ARE SUCH WOMEN.\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a man and his wife, and they wanted to sow\ntheir fields, but they had neither seed nor money to buy it with.\nHowever, they had one cow, and so they decided that the man should drive\nit to the town and sell it, so that they might buy seed with the money.\nWhen the time came, however, the woman was afraid to let her husband\ntake the cow, fearing he would spend the money in drink. So she set off\nherself with the cow, and took a hen with her also.\n\nWhen she was near the town she met a butcher, who said--\n\n\"Do you want to sell the cow, mother?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered she, \"I do.\"\n\n\"How much do you want for it?\"\n\n\"I want a mark for the cow, and you shall have the hen for sixty marks.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"I have no need of the hen. You can get rid of that\nwhen you come to the town, but I will give you a mark for the cow.\"\n\nShe sold him the cow and got the mark for it, but when she came to the\ntown she could find no one who would give her sixty marks for a tough\nlean hen. So she went back to the butcher and said--\n\n\"I cannot get this hen off, master, so you had better take it also with\nthe cow.\"\n\n\"We will see about it,\" said the butcher. So he gave her something to\neat, and gave her so much brandy that she became tipsy and lost her\nsenses, and fell asleep.\n\nWhen he saw that, the butcher dipped her in a barrel of tar, and then\nlaid her on a heap of feathers.\n\nWhen she awoke she found herself feathered all over, and wondered at\nherself.\n\n\"Is it me or some one else?\" said she. \"No, it cannot be me. It must be\na strange bird. How shall I find out whether it is me or not? Oh, I\nknow. When I get home, if the calves lick me, and the dog does not bark\nat me, then it is me myself.\"\n\nThe dog had no sooner seen her than he began to bark, as if there were\nthieves and robbers in the yard.\n\n\"Now,\" said she, \"I see it is not me.\"\n\nShe went to the cow-house but the calves would not lick her, for they\nsmelt the strong tar.\n\n\"No,\" said she, \"I see it cannot be me. It must be some strange bird.\"\n\nSo she crept up to the top of the barn, and began to flap her arms as if\nthey had been wings, and tried to fly. Her husband saw her, so he came\nout with his gun and took aim.\n\n\"Don't shoot, don't shoot,\" called his wife. \"It is me.\"\n\n\"Is it you?\" said the man. \"Then don't stand there like a goat. Come\ndown and tell me what account you can give of yourself.\"\n\nShe crept down again; but she had not a shilling, for she had lost the\nmark the butcher had given her while she was drunk.\n\nWhen the man heard that he was very angry, and declared he would leave\nher, and never come back again until he had found three women as big\nfools as his wife.\n\nSo he set off, and when he had gone a little way he saw a woman who ran\nin and out of a newly built wood hut with an empty sieve. Every time she\nran in she threw her apron over the sieve, as if she had something in\nit.\n\n\"Why do you do that, mother?\" asked he.\n\n\"Why, I am only carrying in a little sun,\" said she, \"but I don't\nunderstand how it is, when I am outside I get the sunshine in the sieve,\nbut when I get in I have somehow lost it. When I was in my old hut I had\nplenty of sunshine, though I never carried it in. I wish I knew some one\nwho would give me sunshine. I would give him three hundred dollars.\"\n\n\"Have you an axe?\" asked the man. \"If so I will get you sunshine.\"\n\nShe gave him an axe and he cut some windows in the hut, for the\ncarpenter had forgotten them. Then the sun shone in, and the woman gave\nhim three hundred dollars.\n\n\"That's one,\" said the man, and he set out once more.\n\nSome time after he came to a house in which he heard a terrible noise\nand bellowing. He went in and saw a woman who was beating her husband\nacross the head with a stick with all her might. Over the man's head\nthere was a shirt in which there was no hole for his head to go through.\n\n\"Mother,\" said he, \"will you kill your husband?\"\n\n\"No,\" said she, \"I only want a hole for his head in the shirt.\"\n\nThe man called out and, struggling, cried--\n\n\"Heaven preserve and comfort all such as have new shirts! If any one\nwould only teach my wife some new way to make a head-hole in them I\nwould gladly give him three hundred dollars.\"\n\n\"That shall soon be done. Give me a pair of scissors,\" said the other.\n\nThe woman gave him the scissors, and he cut a hole in the shirt for the\nman's head to go through, and took the three hundred dollars.\n\n\"That is number two,\" said he to himself.\n\nAfter some time he came to a farm-house, where he thought he would rest\na while. When he went in the woman said--\n\n\"Where do you come from, father?\"\n\n\"I am from Ringerige (Paradise),\" said he.\n\n\"Ah! dear, dear! Are you from Himmerige (Heaven)?\" said she. \"Then you\nwill know my second husband, Peter; happy may he be!\"\n\nThe woman had had three husbands. The first and third had been bad and\nhad used her ill, but the second had used her well, so she counted him\nas safe.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the man, \"I know him well.\"\n\n\"How does he get on there?\" asked the woman.\n\n\"Only pretty well,\" said the man. \"He goes about begging from one house\nto another, and has but little food, or clothes on his back. As to money\nhe has nothing.\"\n\n\"Heaven have mercy on him!\" cried the woman. \"He ought not to go about\nin such a miserable state when he left so much behind. There is a\ncupboard full of clothes which belonged to him, and there is a big box\nfull of money, too. If you will take the things with you, you can have a\nhorse and cart to carry them. He can keep the horse, and he can sit in\nthe cart as he goes from house to house, for so he ought to go.\"\n\nThe man from Ringerige got a whole cart-load of clothes and a box full\nof bright silver money, with meat and drink, as much as he wanted. When\nhe had got all he wished, he got into the cart, and once more set out.\n\n\"That is the third,\" said he to himself.\n\nNow the woman's third husband was ploughing in a field, and when he saw\na man he did not know come out of his yard with his horse and cart, he\nwent home and asked his wife, who it was that was going off with the\nblack horse.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the woman, \"that is a man from Himmerige (Heaven). He told me\nthat things went so miserably with my second Peter, my poor husband,\nthat he had to go begging from house to house and had no money or\nclothes. I have therefore sent him the old clothes he left behind, and\nthe old money box with the money in it.\"\n\nThe man saw how matters were, so he saddled a horse and went out of the\nyard at full speed. It was not long before he came up to the man who sat\nand drove the cart. When the other saw him he drove the horse and cart\ninto a wood, pulled a handful of hair out of the horse's tail, and ran\nup a little hill, where he tied the hair fast to a birch-tree. Then he\nlay down under the tree and began to look and stare at the sky.\n\n\"Well, well,\" said he, as if talking to himself, when Peter the third\ncame near. \"Well! never before have I seen anything to match it.\"\n\nPeter stood still for a time and looked at him, and wondered what was\ncome to him. At last he said--\n\n\"Why do you lie there and stare so?\"\n\n\"I never saw anything like it,\" said the other. \"A man has gone up to\nheaven on a black horse. Here in the birch-tree is some of the horse's\ntail hanging, and there in the sky you may see the black horse.\"\n\nPeter stared first at the man and then at the sky, and said--\n\n\"For my part, I see nothing but some hair out of a horse's tail in the\nbirch-tree.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the other, \"you cannot see it where you stand, but come here\nand lie down, and look up, and take care not to take your eyes off the\nsky.\"\n\nPeter the third lay down and stared up at the sky till the tears ran\nfrom his eyes. The man from Ringerige took his horse, mounted it, and\ngalloped away with it and the horse and cart. When he heard the noise\non the road, Peter the third sprang up, but when he found the man had\ngone off with his horse he was so astonished that he did not think of\ngoing after him till it was too late.\n\nHe was very down-faced when he went home to his wife, and when she asked\nhim what he had done with the horse, he said--\n\n\"I gave it to Peter the second, for I didn't think it was right he\nshould sit in a cart and jolt about from house to house in Himmerige.\nNow then he can sell the cart, and buy himself a coach, and drive\nabout.\"\n\n\"Heaven bless you for that,\" said the woman. \"I never thought you were\nso kind-hearted a man.\"\n\nWhen the Ringerige man reached home with his six hundred dollars, his\ncart-load of clothes, and the money, he saw that all his fields were\nploughed and sown. The first question he put to his wife was how she had\ngot the seed.\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"I always heard that what a man sowed he reaped, so I\nsowed the salt the North-people left here, and if we only have rain I\ndon't doubt but that it will come up nicely.\"\n\n\"You are silly,\" said the man, \"and silly you must remain, but that does\nnot much matter, for the others are as silly as yourself.\"\n\n\n\n\nTALES OF THE NISSES.\n\n\nThe Nis is the same being that is called Kobold in Germany, and Brownie\nin Scotland. He is in Denmark and Norway also called Nisse god Dreng\n(Nisse good lad), and in Sweden, Tomtegubbe (the old man of the house).\n\nHe is of the dwarf family, and resembles them in appearance, and, like\nthem, has the command of money, and the same dislike to noise and\ntumult.\n\nHis usual dress is grey, with a pointed red cap, but on Michaelmas-day\nhe wears a round hat like those of the peasants.\n\nNo farm-house goes on well without there is a Nis in it, and well is it\nfor the maids and the men when they are in favour with him. They may go\nto their beds and give themselves no trouble about their work, and yet\nin the morning the maids will find the kitchen swept up, and water\nbrought in; and the men will find the horses in the stable well cleaned\nand curried, and perhaps a supply of corn cribbed for them from the\nneighbours' barns.\n\nThere was a Nis in a house in Jutland. He every evening got his groute\nat the regular time, and he, in return, used to help both the men and\nthe maids, and looked to the interest of the master of the house in\nevery respect.\n\nThere came one time a mischievous boy to live at service in this house,\nand his great delight was, whenever he got an opportunity, to give the\nNis all the annoyance in his power.\n\nLate one evening, when everything was quiet in the house, the Nis took\nhis little wooden dish, and was just going to eat his supper, when he\nperceived that the boy had put the butter at the bottom and had\nconcealed it, in hopes that he might eat the groute first, and then find\nthe butter when all the groute was gone. He accordingly set about\nthinking how he might repay the boy in kind. After pondering a little he\nwent up into the loft where a man and the boy were lying asleep in the\nsame bed. The Nis whisked off the bed clothes, and when he saw the\nlittle boy by the tall man, he said--\n\n\"Short and long don't match,\" and with this word he took the boy by the\nlegs and dragged him down to the man's feet. He then went up to the head\nof the bed, and--\n\n\"Short and long don't match,\" said he again, and then he dragged the boy\nup to the man's head. Do what he would he could not succeed in making\nthe boy as long as the man, but persisted in dragging him up and down in\nthe bed, and continued at this work the whole night long till it was\nbroad daylight.\n\nBy this time he was well tired, so he crept up on the window stool, and\nsat with his legs dangling down into the yard. The house-dog--for all\ndogs have a great enmity to the Nis--as soon as he saw him began to bark\nat him, which afforded him much amusement, as the dog could not get up\nto him. So he put down first one leg and then the other, and teased the\ndog, saying--\n\n\"Look at my little leg. Look at my little leg!\"\n\nIn the meantime the boy had awoke, and had stolen up behind him, and,\nwhile the Nis was least thinking of it, and was going on with his, \"Look\nat my little leg,\" the boy tumbled him down into the yard to the dog,\ncrying out at the same time--\n\n\"Look at the whole of him now!\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere lived a man in Thyrsting, in Jutland, who had a Nis in his barn.\nThis Nis used to attend to his cattle, and at night he would steal\nfodder for them from the neighbours, so that this farmer had the best\nfed and most thriving cattle in the country.\n\nOne time the boy went along with the Nis to Fugleriis to steal corn. The\nNis took as much as he thought he could well carry, but the boy was more\ncovetous, and said--\n\n\"Oh! take more. Sure, we can rest now and then!\"\n\n\"Rest!\" said the Nis. \"Rest! and what is rest?\"\n\n\"Do what I tell you,\" replied the boy. \"Take more, and we shall find\nrest when we get out of this.\"\n\nThe Nis took more, and they went away with it, but when they came to the\nlands of Thyrsting, the Nis grew tired, and then the boy said to him--\n\n\"Here now is rest!\" and they both sat down on the side of a little\nhill.\n\n\"If I had known,\" said the Nis, as they sat. \"If I had known that rest\nwas so good, I'd have carried off all that was in the barn.\"\n\nIt happened, some time after, that the boy and the Nis were no longer\nfriends, and as the Nis was sitting one day in the granary-window with\nhis legs hanging out into the yard, the boy ran at him and tumbled him\nback into the granary. The Nis was revenged on him that very night, for\nwhen the boy was gone to bed he stole down to where he was lying and\ncarried him as he was into the yard. Then he laid two pieces of wood\nacross the well and put him lying on them, expecting that when he awoke\nhe would fall, from the fright, into the well and be drowned. He was,\nhowever, disappointed, for the boy came off without injury.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThere was a man who lived in the town of Tirup who had a very handsome\nwhite mare. This mare had for many years belonged to the same family,\nand there was a Nis attached to her who brought luck to the place.\n\nThis Nis was so fond of the mare that he could hardly endure to let them\nput her to any kind of work, and he used to come himself every night and\nfeed her of the best; and as for this purpose he usually brought a\nsuperfluity of corn, both thrashed and in the straw, from the\nneighbours' barns, all the rest of the cattle enjoyed the advantage,\nand they were all kept in exceedingly good condition.\n\nIt happened at last that the farm-house passed into the hands of a new\nowner, who refused to put any faith in what they told him about the\nmare, so the luck speedily left the place, and went after the mare to a\npoor neighbour who had bought her. Within five days after his purchase,\nthe poor farmer began to find his circumstances gradually improving,\nwhile the income of the other, day after day, fell away and diminished\nat such a rate that he was hard set to make both ends meet.\n\nIf now the man who had got the mare had only known how to be quiet and\nenjoy the good times that were come upon him, he and his children and\nhis children's children after him would have been in flourishing\ncircumstances till this very day. But when he saw the quantity of corn\nthat came every night to his barn, he could not resist his desire to get\na sight of the Nis. So he concealed himself one evening at nightfall in\nthe stable, and as soon as it was midnight he saw how the Nis came from\nhis neighbour's barn and brought a sack full of corn with him. It was\nnow unavoidable that the Nis should get a sight of the man who was\nwatching, so he, with evident marks of grief, gave the mare her food for\nthe last time, cleaned and dressed her to the best of his ability, and\nwhen he had done, turned round to where the man was lying, and bid him\nfarewell.\n\nFrom that day forward the circumstances of both the neighbours were on\nan equality, for each now kept his own.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DWARFS' BANQUET.\n\n\nThere lived in Norway, not far from the city of Drontheim, a powerful\nman who was blessed with all the goods of fortune. A part of the\nsurrounding country was his property, numerous herds fed on his\npastures, and a great retinue and a crowd of servants adorned his\nmansion. He had an only daughter, called Aslog, the fame of whose beauty\nspread far and wide. The greatest men of the country sought her, but all\nwere alike unsuccessful in their suit, and he who had come full of\nconfidence and joy, rode away home silent and melancholy. Her father,\nwho thought his daughter delayed her choice only to select, forbore to\ninterfere, and exulted in her prudence, but when at length the richest\nand noblest tried their fortune with as little success as the rest, he\ngrew angry and called his daughter, and said to her--\n\n\"Hitherto I have left you to your free choice, but since I see that you\nreject all without any distinction, and the very best of your suitors\nseems not good enough for you, I will keep measures no longer with you.\nWhat! shall my family become extinct, and my inheritance pass away into\nthe hands of strangers? I will break your stubborn spirit. I give you\nnow till the festival of the great winter-night. Make your choice by\nthat time, or prepare to accept him whom I shall fix on.\"\n\nAslog loved a youth named Orm, handsome as he was brave and noble. She\nloved him with her whole soul, and she would sooner die than bestow her\nhand on another. But Orm was poor, and poverty compelled him to serve in\nthe mansion of her father. Aslog's partiality for him was kept a secret,\nfor her father's pride of power and wealth was such that he would never\nhave given his consent to a union with so humble a man.\n\nWhen Aslog saw the darkness of his countenance, and heard his angry\nwords, she turned pale as death, for she knew his temper, and doubted\nnot that he would put his threats into execution. Without uttering a\nword in reply, she retired to her chamber, and thought deeply but in\nvain how to avert the dark storm that hung over her. The great festival\napproached nearer and nearer, and her anguish increased every day.\n\nAt last the lovers resolved on flight.\n\n\"I know,\" said Orm, \"a secure place where we may remain undiscovered\nuntil we find an opportunity of quitting the country.\"\n\nAt night, when all were asleep, Orm led the trembling Aslog over the\nsnow and ice-fields away to the mountains. The moon and the stars,\nsparkling still brighter in the cold winter's night, lighted them on\ntheir way. They had under their arms a few articles of dress and some\nskins of animals, which were all they could carry. They ascended the\nmountains the whole night long till they reached a lonely spot enclosed\nwith lofty rocks. Here Orm conducted the weary Aslog into a cave, the\nlow and narrow entrance to which was hardly perceptible, but it soon\nenlarged to a great hall, reaching deep into the mountain. He kindled a\nfire, and they now, reposing on their skins, sat in the deepest solitude\nfar away from all the world.\n\nOrm was the first who had discovered this cave, which is shown to this\nvery day, and as no one knew anything of it, they were safe from the\npursuit of Aslog's father. They passed the whole winter in this\nretirement. Orm used to go a-hunting, and Aslog stayed at home in the\ncave, minded the fire, and prepared the necessary food. Frequently did\nshe mount the points of the rocks, but her eyes wandered as far as they\ncould reach only over glittering snow-fields.\n\nThe spring now came on: the woods were green, the meadows pat on their\nvarious colours, and Aslog could but rarely, and with circumspection,\nventure to leave the cave. One evening Orm came in with the intelligence\nthat he had recognised her father's servants in the distance, and that\nhe could hardly have been unobserved by them whose eyes were as good as\nhis own.\n\n\"They will surround this place,\" continued he, \"and never rest till they\nhave found us. We must quit our retreat then without a minute's delay.\"\n\nThey accordingly descended on the other side of the mountain, and\nreached the strand, where they fortunately found a boat. Orm shoved off,\nand the boat drove into the open sea. They had escaped their pursuers,\nbut they were now exposed to dangers of another kind. Whither should\nthey turn themselves? They could not venture to land, for Aslog's father\nwas lord of the whole coast, and they would infallibly fall into his\nhands. Nothing then remained for them but to commit their bark to the\nwind and waves. They drove along the entire night. At break of day the\ncoast had disappeared, and they saw nothing but the sky above, the sea\nbeneath, and the waves that rose and fell. They had not brought one\nmorsel of food with them, and thirst and hunger began now to torment\nthem. Three days did they toss about in this state of misery, and Aslog,\nfaint and exhausted, saw nothing but certain death before her.\n\nAt length, on the evening of the third day, they discovered an island of\ntolerable magnitude, and surrounded by a number of smaller ones. Orm\nimmediately steered for it, but just as he came near to it there\nsuddenly arose a violent wind, and the sea rolled higher and higher\nagainst him. He turned about with a view of approaching it on another\nside, but with no better success. His vessel, as often as he approached\nthe island, was driven back as if by an invisible power.\n\n\"Lord God!\" cried he, and blessed himself and looked on poor Aslog, who\nseemed to be dying of weakness before his eyes.\n\nScarcely had the exclamation passed his lips when the storm ceased, the\nwaves subsided, and the vessel came to the shore without encountering\nany hindrance. Orm jumped out on the beach. Some mussels that he found\nupon the strand strengthened and revived the exhausted Aslog so that she\nwas soon able to leave the boat.\n\nThe island was overgrown with low dwarf shrubs, and seemed to be\nuninhabited; but when they had got about the middle of it, they\ndiscovered a house reaching but a little above the ground, and appearing\nto be half under the surface of the earth. In the hope of meeting human\nbeings and assistance, the wanderers approached it. They listened if\nthey could hear any noise, but the most perfect silence reigned there.\nOrm at length opened the door, and with his companion walked in; but\nwhat was their surprise to find everything regulated and arranged as if\nfor inhabitants, yet not a single living creature visible. The fire was\nburning on the hearth in the middle of the room, and a kettle with fish\nhung on it, apparently only waiting for some one to take it off and eat.\nThe beds were made and ready to receive their weary tenants. Orm and\nAslog stood for some time dubious, and looked on with a certain degree\nof awe, but at last, overcome with hunger, they took up the food and\nate. When they had satisfied their appetites, and still in the last\nbeams of the setting sun, which now streamed over the island far and\nwide, discovered no human being, they gave way to weariness, and laid\nthemselves in the beds to which they had been so long strangers.\n\nThey had expected to be awakened in the night by the owners of the house\non their return home, but their expectation was not fulfilled. They\nslept undisturbed till the morning sun shone in upon them. No one\nappeared on any of the following days, and it seemed as if some\ninvisible power had made ready the house for their reception. They spent\nthe whole summer in perfect happiness. They were, to be sure, solitary,\nyet they did not miss mankind. The wild birds' eggs and the fish they\ncaught yielded them provisions in abundance.\n\nWhen autumn came, Aslog presented Orm with a son. In the midst of their\njoy at his appearance they were surprised by a wonderful apparition. The\ndoor opened on a sudden, and an old woman stepped in. She had on her a\nhandsome blue dress. There was something proud, but at the same time\nstrange and surprising in her appearance.\n\n\"Do not be afraid,\" said she, \"at my unexpected appearance. I am the\nowner of this house, and I thank you for the clean and neat state in\nwhich you have kept it, and for the good order in which I find\neverything with you. I would willingly have come sooner, but I had no\npower to do so, till this little heathen (pointing to the new-born babe)\nwas come to the light. Now I have free access. Only, fetch no priest\nfrom the mainland to christen it, or I must depart again. If you will in\nthis matter comply with my wishes, you may not only continue to live\nhere, but all the good that ever you can wish for I will cause you.\nWhatever you take in hand shall prosper. Good luck shall follow you\nwherever you go; but break this condition, and depend upon it that\nmisfortune after misfortune will come on you, and even on this child\nwill I avenge myself. If you want anything, or are in danger, you have\nonly to pronounce my name three times, and I will appear and lend you\nassistance. I am of the race of the old giants, and my name is Guru. But\nbeware of uttering in my presence the name of him whom no giant may hear\nof, and never venture to make the sign of the cross, or to cut it on\nbeam or on board of the house. You may dwell in this house the whole\nyear long, only be so good as to give it up to me on Yule evening, when\nthe sun is at the lowest, as then we celebrate our great festival, and\nthen only are we permitted to be merry. At least, if you should not be\nwilling to go out of the house, keep yourselves up in the loft as quiet\nas possible the whole day long, and, as you value your lives, do not\nlook down into the room until midnight is past. After that you may take\npossession of everything again.\"\n\nWhen the old woman had thus spoken she vanished, and Aslog and Orm, now\nat ease respecting their situation, lived, without any disturbance,\ncontent and happy. Orm never made a cast of his net without getting a\nplentiful draught. He never shot an arrow from his bow that missed its\naim. In short, whatever they took in hand, were it ever so trifling,\nevidently prospered.\n\nWhen Christmas came, they cleaned up the house in the best manner, set\neverything in order, kindled a fire on the hearth, and, as the twilight\napproached, they went up to the loft, where they remained quiet and\nstill. At length it grew dark. They thought they heard a sound of flying\nand labouring in the air, such as the swans make in the winter-time.\nThere was a hole in the roof over the fire-place which might be opened\nor shut either to let in the light from above or to afford a free\npassage for the smoke. Orm lifted up the lid, which was covered with a\nskin, and put out his head, but what a wonderful sight then presented\nitself to his eyes! The little islands around were all lit up with\ncountless blue lights, which moved about without ceasing, jumped up and\ndown, then skipped down to the shore, assembled together, and now came\nnearer and nearer to the large island where Orm and Aslog lived. At last\nthey reached it and arranged themselves in a circle around a large stone\nnot far from the shore, and which Orm well knew. What was his surprise\nwhen he saw that the stone had now completely assumed the form of a man,\nthough of a monstrous and gigantic one! He could clearly perceive that\nthe little blue lights were borne by dwarfs, whose pale clay-coloured\nfaces, with their huge noses and red eyes, disfigured, too, by birds'\nbills and owls' eyes, were supported by misshapen bodies. They tottered\nand wobbled about here and there, so that they seemed to be, at the same\ntime, merry and in pain. Suddenly the circle opened, the little ones\nretired on each side, and Guru, who was now much enlarged and of as\nimmense a size as the stone, advanced with gigantic steps. She threw\nboth her arms about the stone image, which immediately began to receive\nlife and motion. As soon as the first sign of motion showed itself the\nlittle ones began, with wonderful capers and grimaces, a song, or, to\nspeak more properly, a howl, with which the whole island resounded and\nseemed to tremble. Orm, quite terrified, drew in his head, and he and\nAslog remained in the dark, so still that they hardly ventured to draw\ntheir breath.\n\nThe procession moved on towards the house, as might be clearly perceived\nby the nearer approach of the shouting and crying. They were now all\ncome in, and, light and active, the dwarfs jumped about on the benches,\nand heavy and loud sounded, at intervals, the steps of the giants. Orm\nand his wife heard them covering the table, and the clattering of the\nplates, and the shouts of joy with which they celebrated their banquet.\nWhen it was over, and it drew near to midnight, they began to dance to\nthat ravishing fairy air which charms the mind into such sweet\nconfusion, and which some have heard in the rocky glens, and learned by\nlistening to the underground musicians. As soon as Aslog caught the\nsound of the air she felt an irresistible longing to see the dance, nor\nwas Orm able to keep her back.\n\n\"Let me look,\" said she, \"or my heart will burst.\"\n\nShe took her child and placed herself at the extreme end of the loft\nwhence, without being observed, she could see all that passed. Long did\nshe gaze, without taking off her eyes for an instant, on the dance, on\nthe bold and wonderful springs of the little creatures who seemed to\nfloat in the air and not so much as to touch the ground, while the\nravishing melody of the elves filled her whole soul. The child,\nmeanwhile, which lay in her arms, grew sleepy and drew its breath\nheavily, and without ever thinking of the promise she had given to the\nold woman, she made, as is usual, the sign of the cross over the mouth\nof the child, and said--\n\n\"Christ bless you, my babe!\"\n\nThe instant she had spoken the word there was raised a horrible,\npiercing cry. The spirits tumbled head over heels out at the door, with\nterrible crushing and crowding, their lights went out, and in a few\nminutes the whole house was clear of them and left desolate. Orm and\nAslog, frightened to death, hid themselves in the most retired nook in\nthe house. They did not venture to stir till daybreak, and not till the\nsun shone through the hole in the roof down on the fire-place did they\nfeel courage enough to descend from the loft.\n\nThe table remained still covered as the underground people had left it.\nAll their vessels, which were of silver, and manufactured in the most\nbeautiful manner, were upon it. In the middle of the room there stood\nupon the ground a huge copper kettle half-full of sweet mead, and, by\nthe side of it, a drinking-horn of pure gold. In the corner lay against\nthe wall a stringed instrument not unlike a dulcimer, which, as people\nbelieve, the giantesses used to play on. They gazed on what was before\nthem full of admiration, but without venturing to lay their hands on\nanything; but great and fearful was their amazement when, on turning\nabout, they saw sitting at the table an immense figure, which Orm\ninstantly recognised as the giant whom Guru had animated by her embrace.\nHe was now a cold and hard stone. While they were standing gazing on it,\nGuru herself entered the room in her giant form. She wept so bitterly\nthat the tears trickled down on the ground. It was long ere her sobbing\npermitted her to utter a single word. At length she spoke--\n\n\"Great affliction have you brought on me, and henceforth must I weep\nwhile I live. I know you have not done this with evil intentions, and\ntherefore I forgive you, though it were a trifle for me to crush the\nwhole house like an egg-shell over your heads.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" cried she, \"my husband, whom I love more than myself, there he\nsits petrified for ever. Never again will he open his eyes! Three\nhundred years lived I with my father on the island of Kunnan, happy in\nthe innocence of youth, as the fairest among the giant maidens. Mighty\nheroes sued for my hand. The sea around that island is still filled with\nthe rocky fragments which they hurled against each other in their\ncombats. Andfind won the victory, and I plighted myself to him; but ere\nI was married came the detestable Odin into the country, who overcame\nmy father, and drove us all from the island. My father and sisters fled\nto the mountains, and since that time my eyes have beheld them no more.\nAndfind and I saved ourselves on this island, where we for a long time\nlived in peace and quiet, and thought it would never be interrupted.\nDestiny, which no one escapes, had determined it otherwise. Oluf came\nfrom Britain. They called him the Holy, and Andfind instantly found that\nhis voyage would be inauspicious to the giants. When he heard how Oluf's\nship rushed through the waves, he went down to the strand and blew the\nsea against him with all his strength. The waves swelled up like\nmountains, but Oluf was still more mighty than he. His ship flew\nunchecked through the billows like an arrow from a bow. He steered\ndirect for our island. When the ship was so near that Andfind thought he\ncould reach it with his hands, he grasped at the fore-part with his\nright hand, and was about to drag it down to the bottom, as he had often\ndone with other ships. Then Oluf, the terrible Oluf, stepped forward,\nand, crossing his hands over each other, he cried with a loud voice--\"\n\n\"'Stand there as a stone till the last day!' and in the same instant my\nunhappy husband became a mass of rock. The ship went on unimpeded, and\nran direct against the mountain, which it cut through, separating from\nit the little island which lies yonder.\"\n\n\"Ever since my happiness has been annihilated, and lonely and\nmelancholy have I passed my life. On Yule eve alone can petrified giants\nreceive back their life, for the space of seven hours, if one of their\nrace embraces them, and is, at the same time, willing to sacrifice a\nhundred years of his own life. Seldom does a giant do that. I loved my\nhusband too well not to bring him back cheerfully to life, every time\nthat I could do it, even at the highest price, and never would I reckon\nhow often I had done it that I might not know when the time came when I\nmyself should share his fate, and, at the moment I threw my arms around\nhim, become the same as he. Alas! now even this comfort is taken from\nme. I can never more by any embrace awake him, since he has heard the\nname which I dare not utter, and never again will he see the light till\nthe dawn of the last day shall bring it.\"\n\n\"Now I go hence! You will never again behold me! All that is here in the\nhouse I give you! My dulcimer alone will I keep. Let no one venture to\nfix his habitation on the little islands which lie around here. There\ndwell the little underground ones whom you saw at the festival, and I\nwill protect them as long as I live.\"\n\nWith these words Guru vanished. The next spring Orm took the golden horn\nand the silver ware to Drontheim where no one knew him. The value of the\nthings was so great that he was able to purchase everything a wealthy\nman desires. He loaded his ship with his purchases, and returned to the\nisland, where he spent many years in unalloyed happiness, and Aslog's\nfather was soon reconciled to his wealthy son-in-law.\n\nThe stone image remained sitting in the house. No human power was able\nto move it. So hard was the stone that hammer and axe flew in pieces\nwithout making the slightest impression upon it. The giant sat there\ntill a holy man came to the island, who, with one single word, removed\nhim back to his former station, where he stands to this hour. The copper\nkettle, which the underground people left behind them, was preserved as\na memorial upon the island, which bears the name of House Island to the\npresent day.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ICELANDIC SORCERESSES.\n\n\n\"Tell me,\" said Katla, a handsome and lively widow, to Gunlaugar, an\naccomplished and gallant young warrior, \"tell me why thou goest so oft\nto Mahfahlida? Is it to caress an old woman?\"\n\n\"Thine own age, Katla,\" answered the youth inconsiderately, \"might\nprevent thy making that of Geirrida a subject of reproach.\"\n\n\"I little deemed,\" replied the offended matron, \"that we were on an\nequality in that particular--but thou, who supposest that Geirrida is\nthe sole source of knowledge, mayst find that there are others who equal\nher in science.\"\n\nIt happened in the course of the following winter that Gunlaugar, in\ncompany with Oddo, the son of Katla, had renewed one of those visits to\nGeirrida with which Katla had upbraided him.\n\n\"Thou shalt not depart to-night,\" said the sage matron; \"evil spirits\nare abroad, and thy bad destiny predominates.\"\n\n\"We are two in company,\" answered Gunlaugar, \"and have therefore nothing\nto fear.\"\n\n\"Oddo,\" replied Geirrida, \"will be of no aid to thee; but go, since\nthou wilt go, and pay the penalty of thy own rashness.\"\n\nIn their way they visited the rival matron, and Gunlaugar was invited to\nremain in her house that night. This he declined, and, passing forward\nalone, was next morning found lying before the gate of his father\nThorbiorn, severely wounded and deprived of his judgment. Various causes\nwere assigned for this disaster; but Oddo, asserting that they had\nparted in anger that evening from Geirrida, insisted that his companion\nmust have sustained the injury through her sorcery. Geirrida was\naccordingly cited to the popular assembly and accused of witchcraft. But\ntwelve witnesses, or compurgators, having asserted upon their oath the\ninnocence of the accused party, Geirrida was honourably freed from the\naccusation brought against her. Her acquittal did not terminate the\nrivalry between the two sorceresses, for, Geirrida belonging to the\nfamily of Kiliakan, and Katla to that of the pontiff Snorro, the\nanimosity which still subsisted between these septs became awakened by\nthe quarrel.\n\nIt chanced that Thorbiorn, called Digri (or the corpulent), one of the\nfamily of Snorro, had some horses which fed in the mountain pastures,\nnear to those of Thorarin, called the Black, the son of the enchantress\nGeirrida. But when autumn arrived, and the horses were to be withdrawn\nfrom the mountains and housed for the winter, those of Thorbiorn could\nnowhere be found, and Oddo, the son of Katla, being sent to consult a\nwizard, brought back a dubious answer, which seemed to indicate that\nthey had been stolen by Thorarin. Thorbiorn, with Oddo and a party of\narmed followers, immediately set forth for Mahfahlida, the dwelling of\nGeirrida and her son Thorarin. Arrived before the gate, they demanded\npermission to search for the horses which were missing. This Thorarin\nrefused, alleging that neither was the search demanded duly authorised\nby law, nor were the proper witnesses cited to be present, nor did\nThorbiorn offer any sufficient pledge of security when claiming the\nexercise of so hazardous a privilege. Thorbiorn replied, that as\nThorarin declined to permit a search, he must be held as admitting his\nguilt; and constituting for that purpose a temporary court of justice,\nby choosing out six judges, he formally accused Thorarin of theft before\nthe gate of his own house. At this the patience of Geirrida forsook her.\n\n\"Well,\" said she to her son Thorarin, \"is it said of thee that thou art\nmore a woman than a man, or thou wouldst not bear these intolerable\naffronts.\"\n\nThorarin, fired at the reproach, rushed forth with his servants and\nguests; a skirmish soon disturbed the legal process which had been\ninstituted, and one or two of both parties were wounded and slain before\nthe wife of Thorarin and the female attendants could separate the fray\nby flinging their mantles over the weapons of the combatants.\n\nThorbiorn and his party retreating, Thorarin proceeded to examine the\nfield of battle. Alas! among the reliques of the fight was a bloody\nhand too slight and fair to belong to any of the combatants. It was that\nof his wife Ada, who had met this misfortune in her attempts to separate\nthe foes. Incensed to the uttermost, Thorarin threw aside his\nconstitutional moderation, and, mounting on horseback, with his allies\nand followers, pursued the hostile party, and overtook them in a\nhay-field, where they had halted to repose their horses, and to exult\nover the damage they had done to Thorarin. At this moment he assailed\nthem with such fury that he slew Thorbiorn upon the spot, and killed\nseveral of his attendants, although Oddo, the son of Katla, escaped free\nfrom wounds, having been dressed by his mother in an invulnerable\ngarment. After this action, more blood being shed than usual in an\nIcelandic engagement, Thorarin returned to Mahfahlida, and, being\nquestioned by his mother concerning the events of the skirmish, he\nanswered in the improvisatory and enigmatical poetry of his age and\ncountry--\n\n   \"From me the foul reproach be far,\n    With which a female waked the war,\n    From me, who shunned not in the fray\n    Through foemen fierce to hew my way\n    (Since meet it is the eagle's brood\n    On the fresh corpse should find their food);\n    Then spared I not, in fighting field,\n    With stalwart hand my sword to wield;\n    And well may claim at Odin's shrine\n    The praise that waits this deed of mine.\"\n\nTo which effusion Geirrida answered--\n\n\"Do these verses imply the death of Thorbiorn?\"\n\nAnd Thorarin, alluding to the legal process which Thorbiorn had\ninstituted against him, resumed his song--\n\n   \"Sharp bit the sword beneath the hood\n    Of him whose zeal the cause pursued,\n    And ruddy flowed the stream of death,\n    Ere the grim brand resumed the sheath;\n    Now on the buckler of the slain\n    The raven sits, his draught to drain,\n    For gore-drenched is his visage bold,\n    That hither came his courts to hold.\"\n\nAs the consequence of this slaughter was likely to be a prosecution at\nthe instance of the pontiff Snorro, Thorarin had now recourse to his\nallies and kindred, of whom the most powerful were Arnkill, his maternal\nuncle, and Verimond, who readily premised their aid both in the field\nand in the Comitia, or popular meeting, in spring, before which it was\nto be presumed Snorro would indict Thorarin for the slaughter of his\nkinsman. Arnkill could not, however, forbear asking his nephew how he\nhad so far lost his usual command of temper. He replied in verse--\n\n   \"Till then, the master of my mood,\n    Men called me gentle, mild, and good;\n    But yon fierce dame's sharp tongue might wake\n    In wintry den the frozen snake.\"\n\nWhile Thorarin spent the winter with his uncle Arnkill, he received\ninformation from his mother Geirrida that Oddo, son of her old rival\nKatla, was the person who had cut off the hand of his wife Ada, and\nthat he gloried in the fact. Thorarin and Arnkill determined on instant\nvengeance, and, travelling rapidly, surprised the house of Katla. The\nundismayed sorceress, on hearing them approach, commanded her son to sit\nclose beside her, and when the assailants entered they only beheld\nKatla, spinning coarse yarn from what seemed a large distaff, with her\nfemale domestics seated around her.\n\n\"My son,\" she said, \"is absent on a journey;\" and Thorarin and Arnkill,\nhaving searched the house in vain, were obliged to depart with this\nanswer. They had not, however, gone far before the well-known skill of\nKatla, in optical delusion occurred to them, and they resolved on a\nsecond and stricter search. Upon their return they found Katla in the\nouter apartment, who seemed to be shearing the hair of a tame kid, but\nwas in reality cutting the locks of her son Oddo. Entering the inner\nroom, they found the large distaff flung carelessly upon a bench. They\nreturned yet a third time, and a third delusion was prepared for them;\nfor Katla had given her son the appearance of a hog, which seemed to\ngrovel upon the heap of ashes. Arnkill now seized and split the distaff,\nwhich he had at first suspected, upon which Kalta tauntingly observed,\nthat if their visits had been frequent that evening, they could not be\nsaid to be altogether ineffectual, since they had destroyed a distaff.\nThey were accordingly returning completely baffled, when Geirrida met\nthem, and upbraided them with carelessness in searching for their enemy.\n\n\"Return yet again,\" she said, \"and I will accompany you.\"\n\nKatla's maidens, still upon the watch, announced to her the return of\nthe hostile party, their number augmented by one who wore a blue mantle.\n\n\"Alas!\" cried Katla, \"it is the sorceress Geirrida, against whom spells\nwill be of no avail.\"\n\nImmediately rising from the raised and boarded seat which she occupied,\nshe concealed Oddo beneath it, and covered it with cushions as before,\non which she stretched herself complaining of indisposition. Upon the\nentrance of the hostile party, Geirrida, without speaking a word, flung\naside her mantle, took out a piece of sealskin, in which she wrapped up\nKatla's head, and commanded that she should be held by some of the\nattendants, while the others broke open the boarded space, beneath which\nOddo lay concealed, seized upon him, bound him, and led him away captive\nwith his mother. Next morning Oddo was hanged, and Katla stoned to\ndeath; but not until she had confessed that, through her sorcery, she\nhad occasioned the disaster of Gunlaugar, which first led the way to\nthese feuds.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE DOGS.\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a king who travelled to a strange country,\nwhere he married a queen. When they had been married some time the queen\nhad a daughter, which gave rise to much joy through the whole land, for\nall people liked the king, he was so kind and just. As the child was\nborn there came an old woman into the room. She was of a strange\nappearance, and nobody could guess where she came from, or to what place\nshe was going. This old woman declared that the royal child must not be\ntaken out under the sky until it was fifteen years old. If she was she\nwould be in danger of being carried away by the giants of the mountains.\n\nThe king, when he was told what the woman had said, heeded her words,\nand set a guard to see that the princess did not come out into the open\nair.\n\nIn a short time the queen bore another daughter, and there was again\nmuch joy in the land. The old woman once more made her appearance, and\nshe said that the king must not let the young princess go out under the\nsky before she was fifteen.\n\nThe queen had a third daughter, and the third time the old woman came,\nwarning the king respecting this child as she had done regarding the two\nformer. The king was much distressed, for he loved his children more\nthan anything else in the world. So he gave strict orders that the three\nprincesses should be always kept indoors, and he commanded that every\none should respect his edict.\n\nA considerable time passed by, and the princesses grew up to be the most\nbeautiful girls that could be seen far or near. Then a war began, and\nthe king had to leave his home.\n\nOne day, while he was away at the seat of war, the three princesses sat\nat a window looking at how the sun shone on the flowers in the garden.\nThey felt that they would like very much to go and play among the\nflowers, and they begged the guards to let them out for a little while\nto walk in the garden. The guards refused, for they were afraid of the\nking, but the girls begged of them so prettily and so earnestly that\nthey could not long refuse them, so they let them do as they wished. The\nprincesses were delighted, and ran out into the garden, but their\npleasure was short-lived. Scarcely had they got into the open air when a\ncloud came down and carried them off, and no one could find them again,\nthough they searched the wide world over.\n\nThe whole of the people mourned, and the king, as you may imagine, was\nvery much grieved when, on his return home, he learned what had\nhappened. However, there is an old saying, \"What's done cannot be\nundone,\" so the king had to let matters remain as they were. As no one\ncould advise him how to recover his daughters, the king caused\nproclamation to be made throughout the land that whoever should bring\nthem back to him from the power of the mountain-giants should have one\nof them for his wife, and half the kingdom as a wedding present. As soon\nas this proclamation was made in the neighbouring countries many young\nwarriors went out, with servants and horses, to look for the three\nprincesses. There were at the king's court at that time two foreign\nprinces and they started off too, to see how fortunate they might be.\nThey put on fine armour, and took costly weapons, and they boasted of\nwhat they would do, and how they would never come back until they had\naccomplished their purpose.\n\nWe will leave these two princes to wander here and there in their\nsearch, and look at what was passing in another place. Deep down in the\nheart of a wild wood there dwelt at that time an old woman who had an\nonly son, who used daily to attend to his mother's three hogs. As the\nlad roamed through the forest, he one day cut a little pipe to play on.\nHe found much pleasure in the music, and he played so well that the\nnotes charmed all who heard him. The boy was well built, of an honest\nheart, and feared nothing.\n\nOne day it chanced that, as he was sitting in the wood playing on his\npipe, while his three hogs grubbed among the roots of the pine-trees, a\nvery old man came along. He had a beard so long that it reached to his\nwaist, and a large dog accompanied him. When the lad saw the dog he said\nto himself--\n\n\"I wish I had a dog like that as a companion here in the wood. Then\nthere would be no danger.\"\n\nThe old man knew what the boy thought, and he said--\n\n\"I have come to ask you to let me give you my dog for one of your hogs.\"\n\nThe lad was ready to close the bargain, and gave a gray hog in exchange\nfor the big dog. As he was going the old man said--\n\n\"I think you will be satisfied with your bargain. The dog is not like\nother dogs. His name is Hold-fast, and if you tell him to hold, hold he\nwill whatever it may be, were it even the fiercest giant.\"\n\nThen he departed, and the lad thought that for once, at all events,\nfortune had been kind to him.\n\nWhen evening had come, the lad called his dog, and drove the hogs to his\nhome in the forest. When the old woman learnt how her son had given away\nthe gray hog for a dog, she flew into a great rage, and gave him a good\nbeating. The lad begged her to be quiet, but it was of no use, for she\nonly seemed to get the more angry. When the boy saw that it was no good\npleading, he called to the dog--\n\n\"Hold fast.\"\n\nThe dog at once rushed forward, and, seizing the old woman, held her so\nfirmly that she could not move; but he did her no harm. The old woman\nnow had to promise that she would agree to what her son had done; but\nshe could not help thinking that she had suffered a great misfortune in\nlosing her fat gray hog.\n\nThe next day the boy went once more to the forest with his dog and the\ntwo hogs. When he arrived there he sat down and played upon his pipe as\nusual, and the dog danced to the music in such a wonderful manner that\nit was quite amazing. While he thus sat, the old man with the gray beard\ncame up to him out of the forest. He was accompanied by a dog as large\nas the former one. When the boy saw the fine animal, he said to\nhimself--\n\n\"I wish I had that dog as a companion in this wood. Then there would be\nno danger.\"\n\nThe old man knew what he thought, and said--\n\n\"I have come to ask you to let me give you my dog for one of your hogs.\"\n\nThe boy did not hesitate long, but agreed to the bargain. He got the big\ndog, and the man took the hog in exchange. As he went, the old man\nsaid--\n\n\"I think you will be satisfied with your bargain. The dog is not like\nother dogs. He is called Tear, and if you tell him to tear, tear he will\nin pieces whatever it be, even the fiercest mountain giant.\"\n\nThen he departed, and the boy was glad at heart, thinking he had made a\ngood bargain, though he well knew his old mother would not be much\npleased at it.\n\nTowards evening he went home, and his mother was not a bit less angry\nthan she had been on the previous day. She dared not beat her son,\nhowever, for his big dogs made her afraid. It usually happens that when\nwomen have scolded enough they at last give in. So it was now. The boy\nand his mother became friends once more; but the old woman thought she\nhad sustained such a loss as could never again be made good.\n\nThe boy went to the forest again with the hog and the two dogs. He was\nvery happy, and, sitting down on the trunk of a tree he played, as\nusual, on his pipe; and the dogs danced in such fine fashion that it was\na treat to look at them. While the boy thus sat amusing himself, the old\nman with the gray beard again appeared out of the forest. He had with\nhim a third dog as large as either of the others. When the boy saw it,\nhe said to himself--\n\n\"I wish I had that dog as a companion in this wood. Then there would be\nno danger.\"\n\nThe old man said--\n\n\"I came because I wished you to see my dog, for I well know you would\nlike to have him.\"\n\nThe lad was ready enough, and the bargain was made. So he got the big\ndog, giving his last hog for it. The old man then departed, saying--\n\n\"I think you will be satisfied with your bargain. The dog is not like\nother dogs. He is called Quick-ear, and so quick does he hear, that he\nknows all that takes place, be it ever so many miles away. Why, he hears\neven the trees and the grass growing in the fields!\"\n\nThen the old man went off, and the lad felt very happy, for he thought\nhe had nothing now to be afraid of.\n\nAs evening came on the boy went home, and his mother was sorely grieved\nwhen she found her son had parted with her all; but he told her to bid\nfarewell to sorrow, saying that he would see she had no loss. The lad\nspoke so well that the old woman was quite pleased. At daybreak the lad\nwent out a-hunting with his two dogs, and in the evening he came back\nwith as much game as he could carry. He hunted till his mother's larder\nwas well stocked, then he bade her farewell, telling her he was going to\ntravel to see what fortune had in store for him, and called his dogs to\nhim.\n\nHe travelled on over hills, and along gloomy roads, till he got deep in\na dark forest. There the old man with the gray beard met him. The lad\nwas very glad to fall in with him again, and said to him--\n\n\"Good-day, father. I thank you for our last meeting.\"\n\n\"Good-day,\" answered the old man. \"Where are you going?\"\n\n\"I am going into the world,\" said the boy, \"to see what fortune I shall\nhave.\"\n\n\"Go on,\" said the old man, \"and you will come to a royal palace; there\nyou will have a change of fortune.\"\n\nWith that they parted; but the lad paid good heed to the old man's\nwords, and kept on his way. When he came to a house, he played on his\npipe while his dogs danced, and so he got food and shelter, and whatever\nhe wanted.\n\nHaving travelled for some days, he at last entered a large city,\nthrough the streets of which great crowds of people were passing. The\nlad wondered what was the cause of all this. At last he came to where\nproclamation was being made, that whoever should rescue the three\nprincesses from the hands of the mountain giants should have one of them\nfor his wife and half the kingdom with her. Then the lad remembered what\nthe old man had told him, and understood what he meant. He called his\ndogs to him, and went on till he came to the palace. There, from the\ntime that the princesses disappeared, the place had been filled with\nsorrow and mourning, and the king and the queen grieved more than all\nthe others. The boy entered the palace, and begged to be allowed to play\nto the king and show him his dogs. The people of the palace were much\npleased at this, for they thought it might do something to make the king\nforget his grief. So they let him go in and show what he could do. When\nthe king heard how he played, and saw how wonderfully his dogs danced,\nhe was so merry that no one had seen him so during the seven long years\nthat had passed since he lost his daughters. When the dancing was\nfinished, the king asked the boy what he should give him as a return for\nthe amusement he had given them.\n\n\"My lord king,\" said the boy, \"I am not come here for silver, goods, or\ngold! I ask one thing of you, that you will give me leave to go and seek\nthe three princesses who are now in the hands of the mountain giants.\"\nWhen the king heard this he knit his brow--\"So you think,\" said he,\n\"that you can restore my daughters. The task is a dangerous one, and men\nwho were better than you have suffered in it. If, however, any one save\nthe princesses I will never break my word.\"\n\nThe lad thought these words kingly and honest. He bade farewell to the\nking and set out, determined that he would not rest till he had found\nwhat he wanted.\n\nHe travelled through many great countries without any extraordinary\nadventure, and wherever he went his dogs went with him. Quick-ear ran\nand heard what there was to hear in the place; Hold-fast carried the\nbag; and on Tear, who was the strongest of the three, the lad rode when\nhe was tired. One day Quick-ear came running fast to his master to tell\nhim that he had been near a high mountain, and had heard one of the\nprincesses spinning within it. The giant, Quick-ear said, was not at\nhome. At this the boy felt very glad, and he made haste to the mountain\nwith his dogs. When they were come to it, Quick-ear said--\n\n\"We have no time to lose. The giant is only ten miles away, and I can\nhear his horse's golden shoes beating on the stones.\"\n\nThe lad at once ordered his dogs to break in the door of the mountain,\nwhich they did. He entered, and saw a beautiful maiden who sat spinning\ngold thread on a spindle of gold. He stepped forward and spoke to her.\nShe was much astonished, and said--\"Who are you, that dare to come into\nthe giant's hall? For seven long years have I lived here, and never\nduring that time have I looked on a human being. Run away, for Heaven's\nsake, before the giant comes, or you will lose your life.\"\n\nThe boy told her his errand, and said he would await the troll's coming.\nWhile they were talking, the giant came, riding on his gold-shod horse,\nand stopped outside the mountain. When he saw that the door was open he\nwas very angry, and called out, in such a voice that the whole mountain\nshook to its base, \"Who has broken open my door?\" The boy boldly\nanswered--\n\n\"I did it, and now I will break you too. Hold-fast, hold him fast; Tear\nand Quick-ear, tear him into a thousand pieces!\"\n\nHardly had he spoken the words when the three dogs rushed forward, threw\nthemselves on the giant, and tore him into numberless pieces. The\nprincess was very glad, and said--\n\n\"Heaven be thanked! Now I am free.\" She threw herself on the lad's neck\nand kissed him. The lad would not stop in the place, so he saddled the\ngiant's horses, put on them all the goods and gold he found, and set off\nwith the beautiful young princess. They travelled together for a long\ntime, the lad waiting on the maiden with that respect and attention that\nsuch a noble lady deserved.\n\nIt chanced one day that Quick-ear, who had gone before to obtain news,\ncame running fast to his master and informed him that he had been to a\nhigh mountain, and had heard another of the king's daughters sitting\nwithin it spinning gold thread. The giant, he said, was not at home. The\nlad was well pleased to hear this, and hastened to the mountain with his\nthree dogs. When they arrived there, Quick-ear said--\n\n\"We have no time to waste. The giant is but eight miles off. I can hear\nthe sound of his horse's gold shoes on the stones!\"\n\nThe lad ordered the dogs to break in the door, and when they had done so\nhe entered and found a beautiful maiden sitting in the hall, winding\ngold thread. The lad stepped forward and spoke to her. She was much\nsurprised, and said--\n\n\"Who are you, who dare to come into the giant's dwelling? Seven long\nyears have I lived here, and never during that time have I looked on a\nhuman being. Run away, for Heaven's sake, before the giant comes, or you\nwill lose your life.\"\n\nThe lad told her why he had come, and said he would wait for the giant's\nreturn home.\n\nIn the midst of their talk the giant came, riding on his gold-shod\nhorse, and stopped outside the mountain. When he saw the door was open\nhe was in a great rage, and called out with such a voice that the\nmountain shook to its base.\n\n\"Who,\" said he, \"has broken open my door?\" The lad answered boldly--\n\n\"I did it, and now I will break you. Hold-fast, hold him fast; Tear and\nQuick-ear, tear him into a thousand pieces!\" The dogs straightway sprang\nforward and threw themselves on the giant, and tore him into pieces as\nnumberless as are the leaves which fall in the autumn. Then the princess\nwas very glad, and said--\n\n\"Heaven be thanked! Now I am free!\" She threw herself on the lad's neck\nand kissed him. He led her to her sister, and one can well imagine how\nglad they were to meet. The lad took all the treasures that the giant's\ndwelling contained, put them on the gold-shod horses, and set out with\nthe two princesses.\n\nThey again travelled a great distance, and the youth waited on the\nprincesses with the respect and care they deserved.\n\nIt chanced one day that Quick-ear, who went before to get news, came\nrunning fast to his master, and told him he had been near a high\nmountain, and had heard the third princess sitting within, spinning\ncloth of gold. The giant himself was not in. The youth was well pleased\nto hear this, and he hurried to the mountain accompanied by his dogs.\nWhen they came there, Quick-ear said--\n\n\"There is no time to be lost. The giant is not more than five miles off.\nI well know it. I hear the sound of his horse's gold shoes on the\nstones.\"\n\nThe lad told his dogs to break in the door, and they did so. When he\nentered the mountain he saw there a maiden, sitting and weaving cloth of\ngold. She was so beautiful that the lad thought another such could not\nbe found in the world. He advanced and spoke to her. The young princess\nwas much astonished, and said--\n\n\"Who are you, who dare to come into the giant's hall? For seven long\nyears have I lived here, and never during that time have I looked on a\nhuman being. For Heaven's sake,\" added she, \"run away before the giant\ncomes, or he will kill you!\"\n\nThe lad, however, was brave, and said that he would lay down his life\nfor the beautiful princess.\n\nIn the middle of their talk home came the giant, riding on his horse\nwith the golden shoes, and stopped at the mountain. When he came in and\nsaw what unwelcome visitors were there he was very much afraid, for he\nknew what had happened to his brethren. He thought it best to be careful\nand cunning, for he dared not act openly. He began therefore with fine\nwords, and was very smooth and amiable. He told the princess to dress\nmeat, so that he might entertain the guest, and behaved in such a\nfriendly manner that the lad was perfectly deceived, and forgot to be on\nhis guard. He sat down at the table with the giant. The princess wept in\nsecret, and the dogs were very uneasy, but no one noticed it.\n\nWhen the giant and his guest had finished the meal, the youth said--\n\n\"I am no longer hungry. Give me something to drink.\"\n\n\"There is,\" said the giant, \"a spring up in the mountain which runs with\nsparkling wine, but I have no one to fetch of it.\"\n\n\"If that is all,\" said the lad, \"one of my dogs can go up there.\"\n\nThe giant laughed in his false heart when he heard that, for what he\nwanted was that the lad should send away his dogs. The lad told\nHold-fast to go for the wine, and the giant gave him a large jug. The\ndog went, but one might see that he did so very unwillingly.\n\nTime went on and on, but the dog did not come back. After some time the\ngiant said--\n\n\"I wonder why the dog is so long away. It might, perhaps, be as well to\nlet another dog go to help him. He has to go a long distance, and the\njug is a heavy one to carry.\"\n\nThe lad, suspecting no trickery, fell in with the giant's suggestion,\nand told Tear to go and see why Hold-fast did not come. The dog wagged\nhis tail and did not want to leave his master, but he noticed it, and\ndrove him off to the spring. The giant laughed to himself, and the\nprincess wept, but the lad did not mark it, being very merry, jested\nwith his entertainer, and did not dream of any danger.\n\nA long time passed, but neither the wine nor the dogs appeared.\n\n\"I can well see,\" said the giant, \"that your dogs do not do what you\ntell them, or we should not sit here thirsty. It seems to me it would be\nbest to send Quick-ear to ascertain why they don't come back.\"\n\nThe lad was nettled at that, and ordered his third dog to go in haste to\nthe spring. Quick-ear did not want to go, but whined and crept to his\nmaster's feet. Then the lad became angry, and drove him away. The dog\nhad to obey, so away he set in great haste to the top of the mountain.\nWhen he reached it, it happened to him as it had to the others. There\narose a high wall around him, and he was made a prisoner by the giant's\nsorcery.\n\nWhen all the three dogs were gone, the giant stood up, put on a\ndifferent look, and gripped his bright sword which hung upon the wall.\n\n\"Now will I avenge my brethren,\" said he, \"and you shall die this\ninstant, for you are in my hands.\"\n\nThe lad was frightened, and repented that he had parted with his dogs.\n\n\"I will not ask my life,\" said he, \"for I must die some day. I only ask\none thing, that I may say my _Paternoster_ and play a psalm on my\npipe. That is the custom in my country.\"\n\nThe giant granted him his wish, but said he would not wait long. The lad\nknelt down, and devoutly said his _Paternoster_, and began to play\nupon his pipe so that it was heard over hill and dale. That instant the\nmagic lost its power, and the dogs were once more set free. They came\ndown like a blast of wind, and rushed into the mountain. Then the lad\nsprang up and cried--\n\n\"Hold-fast, hold him; Tear and Quick-ear, tear him into a thousand\npieces.\"\n\nThe dogs flew on the giant, and tore him into countless shreds. Then the\nlad took all the treasures in the mountain, harnessed the giant's\nhorses to a golden chariot, and made haste to be gone.\n\nAs may well be imagined, the young princesses were very glad at being\nthus saved, and they thanked the lad for having delivered them from the\npower of mountain giants. He himself fell deep in love with the youngest\nprincess, and they vowed to be true and faithful. So they travelled,\nwith mirth and jest and great gladness, and the lad waited on the\nprincesses with the respect and care they deserved. As they went on, the\nprincesses played with the lad's hair, and each one hung her finger-ring\nin his long locks as a keepsake.\n\nOne day as they were journeying, they came up with two wanderers who\nwere going the same way. They had on tattered clothes, their feet were\nsore, and altogether one would have thought they had come a long\ndistance. The lad stopped his chariot and asked them who they were and\nwhere they came from. The strangers said they were two princes who had\ngone out to look for the three maidens who had been carried off to the\nmountains. They had, however, searched in vain, so they had now to go\nhome more like beggars than princes.\n\nWhen the lad heard that, he had pity on the two wanderers, and he asked\nthem to go with him in the beautiful chariot. The princes gave him many\nthanks for the favour. So they travelled on together till they came to\nthe land over which the father of the princesses ruled.\n\nNow when the princes heard how the poor lad had rescued the princesses,\nthey were filled with envy, thinking how they themselves had wandered to\nno purpose. They considered how they could get rid of him, and obtain\nthe honour and rewards for themselves. So one day they suddenly set on\nhim, seized him by the throat, and nearly strangled him. Then they\nthreatened to kill the princesses unless they took an oath not to reveal\nwhat they had done, and they, being in the princes' power, did not dare\nto refuse. However, they were very sorry for the youth who had risked\nhis life for them, and the youngest princess mourned him with all her\nheart, and would not be comforted.\n\nAfter having done this, the princes went on to the king's demesnes, and\none can well imagine how glad the king was to once more see his three\ndaughters.\n\nMeanwhile the poor lad lay in the forest as if he were dead. He was not,\nhowever, forsaken, for the three dogs lay down by him, kept him warm,\nand licked his wounds. They attended to him till he got his breath\nagain, and came once more to life. When he had regained life and\nstrength, he began his journey, and came, after having endured many\nhardships, to the king's demesnes, where the princesses lived.\n\nWhen he went into the palace, he marked that the whole place was filled\nwith mirth and joy, and in the royal hall he heard dancing and the sound\nof harps. The lad was much astonished, and asked what it all meant.\n\n\"You have surely come from a distance,\" said the servant, \"not to know\nthat the king has got back his daughters from the mountain giants. The\ntwo elder princesses are married to-day.\"\n\nThe lad asked about the youngest princess, whether she was to be\nmarried. The servant said she would have no one, but wept continually,\nand no one could find out the reason for her sorrow. Then the lad was\nglad, for he well knew that his love was faithful and true to him.\n\nHe went up into the guard-room, and sent a message to the king that a\nguest had come who prayed that he might add to the wedding mirth by\nexhibiting his dogs. The king was pleased, and ordered that the stranger\nshould be well received. When the lad came into the hall, the wedding\nguests much admired his smartness and his manly form, and they all\nthought they had never before seen so brave a young man. When the three\nprincesses saw him they knew him at once, rose from the table, and ran\ninto his arms. Then the princes thought they had better not stay there,\nfor the princesses told how the lad had saved them, and how all had\nbefallen. As a proof of the truth of what they said, they showed their\nrings in the lad's hair.\n\nWhen the king knew how the two foreign princes had acted so\ntreacherously and basely he was much enraged, and ordered that they\nshould be driven off his demesnes with disgrace.\n\nThe brave youth was welcomed with great honour, as, indeed, he deserved,\nand he was, the same day, married to the youngest princess. When the\nking died, the youth was chosen ruler over the land, and made a brave\nking. There he yet lives with his beautiful queen, and there he governs\nprosperously to this day.\n\nI know no more about him.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LEGEND OF THORGUNNA.\n\n\nA ship from Iceland chanced to winter in a haven near Helgafels. Among\nthe passengers was a woman named Thorgunna, a native of the Hebrides,\nwho was reported by the sailors to possess garments and household\nfurniture of a fashion far surpassing those used in Iceland. Thurida,\nsister of the pontiff Snorro, and wife of Thorodd, a woman of a vain and\ncovetous disposition, attracted by these reports, made a visit to the\nstranger, but could not prevail upon her to display her treasures.\nPersisting, however, in her inquiries, she pressed Thorgunna to take up\nher abode at the house of Thorodd. The Hebridean reluctantly assented,\nbut added, that as she could labour at every usual kind of domestic\nindustry, she trusted in that manner to discharge the obligation she\nmight lie under to the family, without giving any part of her property\nin recompense of her lodging. As Thurida continued to urge her request,\nThorgunna accompanied her to Froda, the house of Thorodd, where the\nseamen deposited a huge chest and cabinet, containing the property of\nher new guest, which Thurida viewed with curious and covetous eyes. So\nsoon as they had pointed out to Thorgunna the place assigned for her\nbed, she opened the chest, and took forth such an embroidered bed\ncoverlid, and such a splendid and complete set of tapestry hangings, and\nbed furniture of English linen, interwoven with silk, as had never been\nseen in Iceland.\n\n\"Sell to me,\" said the covetous matron, \"this fair bed furniture.\"\n\n\"Believe me,\" answered Thorgunna, \"I will not lie upon straw in order to\nfeed thy pomp and vanity;\" an answer which so greatly displeased Thurida\nthat she never again repeated her request. Thorgunna, to whose character\nsubsequent events added something of a mystical solemnity, is described\nas being a woman of a tall and stately appearance, of a dark complexion,\nand having a profusion of black hair. She was advanced in age; assiduous\nin the labours of the field and of the loom; a faithful attendant upon\ndivine worship; grave, silent, and solemn in domestic society. She had\nlittle intercourse with the household of Thorodd, and showed particular\ndislike to two of its inmates. These were Thorer, who, having lost a leg\nin the skirmish between Thorbiorn and Thorarin the Black, was called\nThorer-Widlegr (wooden-leg), from the substitute he had adopted; and his\nwife, Thorgrima, called Galldra-Kinna (wicked sorceress), from her\nsupposed skill in enchantments. Kiartan, the son of Thurida, a boy of\nexcellent promise, was the only person of the household to whom\nThorgunna showed much affection; and she was much vexed at times when\nthe childish petulance of the boy made an indifferent return to her\nkindness.\n\nAfter this mysterious stranger had dwelt at Froda for some time, and\nwhile she was labouring in the hay-field with other members of the\nfamily, a sudden cloud from the northern mountain led Thorodd to\nanticipate a heavy shower. He instantly commanded the hay-workers to\npile up in ricks the quantity which each had been engaged in turning to\nthe wind. It was afterwards remembered that Thorgunna did not pile up\nher portion, but left it spread on the field. The cloud approached with\ngreat celerity, and sank so heavily around the farm, that it was scarce\npossible to see beyond the limits of the field. A heavy shower next\ndescended, and so soon as the clouds broke away and the sun shone forth\nit was observed that it had rained blood. That which fell upon the ricks\nof the other labourers soon dried up, but what Thorgunna had wrought\nupon remained wet with gore. The unfortunate Hebridean, appalled at the\nomen, betook herself to her bed, and was seized with a mortal illness.\nOn the approach of death she summoned Thorodd, her landlord, and\nintrusted to him the disposition of her property and effects.\n\n\"Let my body,\" said she, \"be transported to Skalholt, for my mind\npresages that in that place shall be founded the most distinguished\nchurch in this island. Let my golden ring be given to the priests who\nshall celebrate my obsequies, and do thou indemnify thyself for the\nfuneral charges out of my remaining effects. To thy wife I bequeath my\npurple mantle, in order that, by this sacrifice to her avarice, I may\nsecure the right of disposing of the rest of my effects at my own\npleasure. But for my bed, with its coverings, hangings, and furniture, I\nentreat they may be all consigned to the flames. I do not desire this\nbecause I envy any one the possession of these things after my death,\nbut because I wish those evils to be avoided which I plainly foresee\nwill happen if my will be altered in the slightest particular.\"\n\nThorodd promised faithfully to execute this extraordinary testament in\nthe most exact manner. Accordingly, so soon as Thorgunna was dead, her\nfaithful executor prepared a pile for burning her splendid bed. Thurida\nentered, and learned with anger and astonishment the purpose of these\npreparations. To the remonstrances of her husband she answered that the\nmenaces of future danger were only caused by Thorgunna's selfish envy,\nwho did not wish any one should enjoy her treasures after her decease.\nThen, finding Thorodd inaccessible to argument, she had recourse to\ncaresses and blandishments, and at length extorted permission to\nseparate from the rest of the bed-furniture the tapestried curtains and\ncoverlid; the rest was consigned to the flames, in obedience to the will\nof the testator. The body of Thorgunna, being wrapped in new linen and\nplaced in a coffin, was next to be transported through the precipices\nand morasses of Iceland to the distant district she had assigned for her\nplace of sepulture. A remarkable incident occurred on the way. The\ntransporters of the body arrived at evening, late, weary, and drenched\nwith rain, in a house called Nether-Ness, where the niggard hospitality\nof the proprietor only afforded them house-room, without any supply of\nfood or fuel. But, so soon as they entered, an unwonted noise was heard\nin the kitchen of the mansion, and the figure of a woman, soon\nrecognised to be the deceased Thorgunna, was seen busily employed in\npreparing victuals. Their inhospitable landlord, being made acquainted\nwith this frightful circumstance, readily agreed to supply every\nrefreshment which was necessary, on which the vision instantly\ndisappeared. The apparition having become public, they had no reason to\nask twice for hospitality as they proceeded on their journey, and they\ncame to Skalholt, where Thorgunna, with all due ceremonies of religion,\nwas deposited quietly in the grave. But the consequences of the breach\nof her testament were felt severely at Froda.\n\nThe dwelling at Froda was a simple and patriarchal structure, built\naccording to the fashion used by the wealthy among the Icelanders. The\napartments were very large, and a part boarded off contained the beds of\nthe family. On either side was a sort of store-room, one of which\ncontained meal, the other dried fish. Every evening large fires were\nlighted in this apartment for dressing the victuals; and the domestics\nof the family usually sat around them for a considerable time, until\nsupper was prepared. On the night when the conductors of Thorgunna's\nfuneral returned to Froda, there appeared, visible to all who were\npresent, a meteor, or spectral appearance, resembling a half-moon, which\nglided around the boarded walls of the mansion in an opposite direction\nto the course of the sun, and continued to perform its revolutions until\nthe domestics retired to rest. This apparition was renewed every night\nduring a whole week, and was pronounced by Thorer with the wooden leg to\npresage pestilence or mortality. Shortly after a herdsman showed signs\nof mental alienation, and gave various indications of having sustained\nthe persecution of evil demons. This man was found dead in his bed one\nmorning, and then commenced a scene of ghost-seeing unheard of in the\nannals of superstition. The first victim was Thorer, who had presaged\nthe calamity. Going out of doors one evening, he was grappled by the\nspectre of the deceased shepherd as he attempted to re-enter the house.\nHis wooden leg stood him in poor stead in such an encounter; he was\nhurled to the earth, and so fearfully beaten, that he died in\nconsequence of the bruises. Thorer was no sooner dead than his ghost\nassociated itself to that of the herdsman, and joined him in pursuing\nand assaulting the inhabitants of Froda. Meantime an infectious disorder\nspread fast among them, and several of the bondsmen died one after the\nother. Strange portents were seen within-doors, the meal was displaced\nand mingled, and the dried fish flung about in a most alarming manner,\nwithout any visible agent. At length, while the servants were forming\ntheir evening circle round the fire, a spectre, resembling the head of a\nseal-fish, was seen to emerge out of the pavement of the room, bending\nits round black eyes full on the tapestried bed-curtains of Thorgunna.\nSome of the domestics ventured to strike at this figure, but, far from\ngiving way, it rather erected itself further from the floor, until\nKiartan, who seemed to have a natural predominance over these\nsupernatural prodigies, seizing a huge forge-hammer, struck the seal\nrepeatedly on the head, and compelled it to disappear, forcing it down\ninto the floor, as if he had driven a stake into the earth. This prodigy\nwas found to intimate a new calamity. Thorodd, the master of the family,\nhad some time before set forth on a voyage to bring home a cargo of\ndried fish; but in crossing the river Enna the skiff was lost and he\nperished with the servants who attended him. A solemn funeral feast was\nheld at Froda, in memory of the deceased, when, to the astonishment of\nthe guests, the apparition of Thorodd and his followers seemed to enter\nthe apartment dripping with water. Yet this vision excited less horror\nthan might have been expected, for the Icelanders, though nominally\nChristians, retained, among other pagan superstitions, a belief that the\nspectres of such drowned persons as had been favourably received by the\ngoddess Rana were wont to show themselves at their funeral feast. They\nsaw, therefore, with some composure, Thorodd and his dripping attendants\nplant themselves by the fire, from which all mortal guests retreated to\nmake room for them. It was supposed this apparition would not be\nrenewed after the conclusion of the festival. But so far were their\nhopes disappointed, that, so soon as the mourning guests had departed,\nthe fires being lighted, Thorodd and his comrades marched in on one\nside, drenched as before with water; on the other entered Thorer,\nheading all those who had died in the pestilence, and who appeared\ncovered with dust. Both parties seized the seats by the fire, while the\nhalf-frozen and terrified domestics spent the night without either light\nor warmth. The same phenomenon took place the next night, though the\nfires had been lighted in a separate house, and at length Kiartan was\nobliged to compound matters with the spectres by kindling a large fire\nfor them in the principal apartment, and one for the family and\ndomestics in a separate hut. This prodigy continued during the whole\nfeast of Jol. Other portents also happened to appal this devoted family:\nthe contagious disease again broke forth, and when any one fell a\nsacrifice to it his spectre was sure to join the troop of persecutors,\nwho had now almost full possession of the mansion of Froda. Thorgrima\nGalldrakinna, wife of Thorer, was one of these victims, and, in short,\nof thirty servants belonging to the household, eighteen died, and five\nfled for fear of the apparitions, so that only seven remained in the\nservice of Kiartan.\n\nKiartan had now recourse to the advice of his maternal uncle Snorro, in\nconsequence of whose counsel, which will perhaps appear surprising to\nthe reader, judicial measures were instituted against the spectres. A\nChristian priest was, however, associated with Thordo Kausa, son of\nSnorro, and with Kiartan, to superintend and sanctify the proceedings.\nThe inhabitants were regularly summoned to attend upon the inquest, as\nin a cause between man and man, and the assembly was constituted before\nthe gate of the mansion, just as the spectres had assumed their wonted\nstation by the fire. Kiartan boldly ventured to approach them, and,\nsnatching a brand from the fire, he commanded the tapestry belonging to\nThorgunna to be carried out of doors, set fire to it, and reduced it to\nashes with all the other ornaments of her bed, which had been so\ninconsiderately preserved at the request of Thurida. A tribunal being\nthen constituted with the usual legal solemnities, a charge was\npreferred by Kiartan against Thorer with the wooden leg, by Thordo Kausa\nagainst Thorodd, and by others chosen as accusers against the individual\nspectres present, accusing them of molesting the mansion, and\nintroducing death and disease among its inhabitants. All the solemn\nrites of judicial procedure were observed on this singular occasion;\nevidence was adduced, charges given, and the cause formally decided. It\ndoes not appear that the ghosts put themselves on their defence, so that\nsentence of ejectment was pronounced against them individually in due\nand legal form. When Thorer heard the judgment, he arose, and saying--\n\n\"I have sat while it was lawful for me to do so,\" left the apartment by\nthe door opposite to that at which the judicial assembly was\nconstituted. Each of the spectres, as it heard its individual sentence,\nleft the place, saying something which indicated its unwillingness to\ndepart, until Thorodd himself was solemnly called on to leave.\n\n\"We have here no longer,\" said he, \"a peaceful dwelling, therefore will\nwe remove.\"\n\nKiartan then entered the hall with his followers, and the priest, with\nholy water, and celebration of a solemn mass, completed the conquest\nover the goblins, which had been commenced by the power and authority of\nthe Icelandic law.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE GLASS SHOE.\n\n\nA peasant, named John Wilde, who lived in Rodenkirchen, found, one time,\na little glass shoe on one of the hills, where the little people used to\ndance. He clapped it instantly in his pocket, and ran away with it,\nkeeping his hand as close on his pocket as if he had a dove in it, for\nhe knew he had found a treasure which the underground people must redeem\nat any price.\n\nOthers say that John Wilde lay in ambush one night for the underground\npeople, and snatched an opportunity to pull off one of their shoes by\nstretching himself there with a brandy bottle beside him, and acting\nlike one that was dead drunk, for he was a very cunning man, not over\nscrupulous in his morals, and had taken in many a one by his craftiness,\nand, on this account, his name was in no good repute among his\nneighbours, who, to say the truth, were willing to have as little to do\nwith him as possible. Many hold, too, that he was acquainted with\nforbidden acts, and used to carry on an intercourse with the fiends and\nold women that raised storms, and such like.\n\nHowever, be this as it may, when John had got the shoe he lost no time\nin letting the folk that dwell under the ground know that he had it. At\nmidnight he went to the Nine-hills, and cried with all his might--\n\n\"John Wilde of Rodenkirchen has got a beautiful glass shoe. Who will buy\nit? who will buy it?\" for he knew that the little one who had lost the\nshoe must go barefoot till he got it again; and that is no trifle, for\nthe little people have generally to walk upon very hard and stony\nground.\n\nJohn's advertisement was speedily attended to. The little fellow who had\nlost the shoe made no delay in setting about redeeming it. The first\nfree day he got that he might come out in the daylight, he came as a\nrespectable merchant, knocked at John Wilde's door, and asked if John\nhad not got a glass shoe to sell:\n\n\"For,\" says he, \"they are an article now in great demand, and are sought\nfor in every market.\"\n\nJohn replied that it was true that he had a very pretty little glass\nshoe; but it was so small that even a dwarf's foot would be squeezed in\nit, and that a person must be made on purpose to suit it before it could\nbe of use. For all that, it was an extraordinary shoe, a valuable shoe,\nand a dear shoe, and it was not every merchant that could afford to pay\nfor it.\n\nThe merchant asked to see it, and when he had examined it--\n\n\"Glass shoes,\" said he, \"are not by any means such rare articles, my\ngood friend, as you think here in Rodenkirchen, because you do not\nhappen to go much into the world. However,\" said he, after humming a\nlittle, \"I will give you a good price for it, because I happen to have\nthe very fellow of it.\"\n\nHe bid the countryman a thousand dollars for it.\n\n\"A thousand dollars are money, my father used to say when he drove fat\noxen to market,\" replied John Wilde, in a mocking tone; \"but it will not\nleave my hands for that shabby price, and, for my own part, it may\nornament the foot of my daughter's doll! Hark ye, my friend, I have\nheard a sort of little song sung about the glass shoe, and it is not for\na parcel of dirt it will go out of my hands. Tell me now, my good\nfellow, should you happen to know the knack of it, how in every furrow I\nmake when I am ploughing I may find a ducat? If not, the shoe is still\nmine; and you may inquire for glass shoes at those other markets.\"\n\nThe merchant made still a great many attempts, and twisted and turned in\nevery direction to get the shoe; but when he found the farmer\ninflexible, he agreed to what John desired, and swore to the performance\nof it. Cunning John believed him, and gave him up the glass shoe, for he\nknew right well with whom he had to do. So, the business being ended,\naway went the merchant with his glass shoe.\n\nWithout a moment's delay John repaired to his stable, got ready his\nhorses and his plough, and went out to the field. He selected a piece of\nground where he would have the shortest turns possible, and began to\nplough. Hardly had the plough turned up the first sod when up sprang a\nducat out of the ground, and it was the same with every fresh furrow he\nmade. There was now no end of his ploughing, and John Wilde soon bought\neight new horses, and put them into the stable to the eight he already\nhad, and their mangers were never without plenty of oats in them, that\nhe might be able every two hours to yoke two fresh horses, and so be\nenabled to drive them the faster.\n\nJohn was now insatiable in ploughing. Every morning he was out before\nsunrise, and many a time he ploughed on till after midnight. Summer and\nwinter it was plough, plough with him ever-more, except when the ground\nwas frozen as hard as a stone. He always ploughed by himself, and never\nsuffered any one to go out with him, or to come to him when he was at\nwork, for John understood too well the nature of his crop to let people\nsee for what it was he ploughed so constantly.\n\nHowever, it fared far worse with him than with his horses, who ate good\noats, and were regularly changed and relieved, for he grew pale and\nmeagre by reason of his continual working and toiling. His wife and\nchildren had no longer any comfort for him. He never went to the\nale-house or to the club. He withdrew himself from every one, and\nscarcely ever spoke a single word, but went about silent and wrapped up\nin his own thoughts. All the day long he toiled for his ducats, and at\nnight he had to count them, and to plan and meditate how he might find\nout a still swifter kind of plough.\n\nHis wife and the neighbours lamented over his strange conduct, his\ndulness and melancholy, and began to think he was grown foolish.\nEverybody pitied his wife and children, for they imagined the numerous\nhorses that he kept in his stable, and the preposterous mode of\nagriculture he pursued, with his unnecessary and superfluous ploughing,\nmust soon leave him without house or land.\n\nTheir anticipations, however, were not fulfilled. True it is, the poor\nman never enjoyed a happy or contented hour since he began to plough the\nducats up out of the ground. The old saying held good in his case, that\nhe who gives himself up to the pursuit of gold is half-way in the claws\nof the evil one. Flesh and blood cannot bear perpetual labour, and John\nWilde did not long hold out against his running through the furrows day\nand night. He got through the first spring; but one day in the second he\ndropped down at the tail of the plough like an exhausted November fly.\nOut of the pure thirst for gold he was wasted away and dried up to\nnothing, whereas he had been a very strong and hearty man the day the\nshoe of the little underground man fell into his hands.\n\nHis wife, however, found he had left a great treasure--two great\nnailed-up chests full of good new ducats; and his sons purchased large\nestates for themselves, and became lords and noblemen.\n\nBut what good did all that to poor John Wilde?\n\n\n\n\nHOW LOKI WAGERED HIS HEAD.\n\n\nLoki, the son of Laufey, out of mischief cut off all the hair of Sif.\nWhen Thor discovered this he seized Loki, and would have broken every\nbone in his body, only he swore that he would get the black dwarfs to\nmake hair of gold for Sif, which should grow like any other hair.\n\nLoki then went to the dwarfs that are called the sons of Ivallda. They\nfirst made the hair, which, as soon as it was put on the head, grew like\nnatural hair. Then they made the ship Skidbladnir, which always had the\nwind with it wherever it would sail. Lastly, they made the spear Gugner,\nwhich always hit its mark in battle.\n\nThen Loki wagered his head against the dwarf Brock, that his brother,\nEitri, could not forge three such valuable things as these. They went to\nthe forge. Eitri set the bellows to the fire, and bid his brother,\nBrock, blow. While he was blowing there came a fly that settled on his\nhand and bit him, but he blew without stopping till the smith took the\nwork out of the fire, and it was a boar, and its bristles were of gold.\n\nEitri then put gold into the fire, and bid his brother not stop blowing\ntill he came back. He went away, and the fly came and settled on Brock's\nneck, and bit him more severely than before, but he blew on till the\nsmith came back, and took out of the fire the gold ring which is called\nDraupnir.\n\nThen he put iron into the fire, and bid Brock blow, and said that if he\nstopped blowing all the work would be lost. The fly settled between\nBrock's eyes, and bit so hard that the blood ran down so that he could\nnot see. So, when the bellows were down, he caught at the fly in all\nhaste, and tore off its wings. When the smith came he said that all that\nwas in the fire was nearly spoiled. Then he took out of it the hammer,\nMjolnir. He then gave all the things to his brother Brock, and bade him\ngo with them to Asgard, and settle the wager.\n\nLoki produced his articles, and Odin, Thor, and Frey were the judges.\nThen Loki gave to Odin the spear Gugner, and to Thor the hair that Sif\nwas to have, and to Frey Skidbladnir, and told them what virtues those\nthings possessed. Brock took out his articles, and gave to Odin the\nring, and told him that every ninth night there would drop from it eight\nother rings as valuable as itself. To Frey he gave the boar, and said\nthat it would run through air and water, by night and by day, better\nthan any horse, and that never was there night so dark that the way by\nwhich he went would not be light from his hide. The hammer he gave to\nThor, and said that it would never fail to hit a troll, and that at\nwhatever he threw it, it would never miss the mark, and that Thor could\nnever throw it so far that it would not return to his hand. It would\nalso, when Thor chose, become so small that he could put it in his\npocket. The only fault of the hammer was that its handle was a little\ntoo short.\n\nTheir judgment was that the hammer was the best of all the things before\nthem, and that the dwarf had won his wager. Then Loki prayed hard not to\nlose his head, but the dwarf said that could not be.\n\n\"Catch me, then!\" said Loki, and when the dwarf sought to catch him he\nwas far away, for Loki had shoes with which he could run through air and\nwater. Then the dwarf prayed Thor to catch him, and he did so. The dwarf\nnow proceeded to cut off his head, but Loki objected that he was to have\nthe head only, and not the neck. As he would not be quiet, the dwarf\ntook a knife and a thong, and began to sew his mouth up; but the knife\nwas bad, so the dwarf wished that he had his brother's awl, and as soon\nas he wished it, it was there. So he sewed Loki's lips together.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURES OF JOHN DIETRICH.\n\n\nThere once lived in Rambin an honest, industrious man, named James\nDietrich. He had several children, all of a good disposition, especially\nthe youngest, whose name was John. John Dietrich was a handsome, smart\nboy, diligent at school, and obedient at home. His great passion was for\nhearing stories, and whenever he met any one who was well stored he\nnever let him go till he had heard them all.\n\nWhen John was about eight years old he was sent to spend a summer with\nhis uncle, a farmer, in Rodenkirchen. Here John had to keep cows with\nother boys, and they used to drive them to graze about the Nine-hills.\nThere was an old cowherd, one Klas Starkwolt who used frequently to join\nthe boys, and then they would sit down together and tell stories. Klas\nabounded in these, and he became John Dietrich's dearest friend. In\nparticular, he knew a number of stories of the Nine-hills, and the\nunderground people in the old times, when the giants disappeared from\nthe country and the little ones came into the hills. These tales John\nswallowed so eagerly that he thought of nothing else, and was for ever\ntalking of golden cups, and crowns, and glass shoes, and pockets full of\nducats, and gold rings, and diamond coronets, and snow-white brides, and\nsuch like. Old Klas used often to shake his head at him, and say--\n\n\"John! John! what are you about? The spade and scythe will be your\nsceptre and crown, and your bride will wear a garland of rosemary, and a\ngown of striped drill.\"\n\nStill John almost longed to get into the Nine-hills, for Klas told him\nthat every one who by luck or cunning should get a cap of the little\nones might go down with safety, and instead of their making a servant of\nhim, he would be their master. The person whose cap he got would be his\nservant, and obey all his commands.\n\nSt. John's day, when the days were longest and the nights shortest, was\nnow come. Old and young kept the holiday, had all sorts of plays, and\ntold all kinds of stories. John could now no longer contain himself, but\nthe day after the festival he slipt away to the Nine-hills, and when it\ngrew dark laid himself down on the top of the highest of them, where\nKlas had told him the underground people had their principal\ndancing-place. John lay quite still from ten till twelve at night. At\nlast it struck twelve. Immediately there was a ringing and a singing in\nthe hills, and then a whispering and a lisping, and a whiz and a buzz\nall about him, for the little people were now, some whirling round and\nround in the dance, and others sporting and tumbling about in the\nmoonshine, and playing a thousand merry pranks and tricks. He felt a\nsecret dread come over him at this whispering and buzzing, for he could\nsee nothing of them, as the caps they wore made them invisible, but he\nlay quite still with his face in the grass, and his eyes fast shut,\nsnoring a little, just as if he were asleep. Now and then he ventured to\nopen his eyes a little and peep out, but not the slightest trace of them\ncould he see, though it was bright moonlight.\n\nIt was not long before three of the underground people came jumping up\nto where he was lying, but they took no heed of him, and flung their\nbrown caps up into the air, and caught them from one another. At length\none snatched the cap out of the hand of another and flung it away. It\nflew direct, and fell upon John's head. The moment he felt it he caught\nhold of it, and, standing up, bid farewell to sleep. He flung his cap\nabout for joy and made the little silver bell of it jingle, then set it\nupon his head, and--oh wonderful! that instant he saw the countless and\nmerry swarm of the little people.\n\nThe three little men came slily up to him, and thought by their\nnimbleness to get back the cap, but he held his prize fast, and they saw\nclearly that nothing was to be done in this way with him, for in size\nand strength John was a giant in comparison with these little fellows,\nwho hardly came up to his knee. The owner of the cap now came up very\nhumbly to the finder, and begged, in as supplicating a tone as if his\nlife depended upon it, that he would give him back his cap.\n\n\"No,\" said John, \"you sly little rogue, you will get the cap no more.\nThat's not the sort of thing one gives away for buttered cake. I should\nbe in a nice way with you if I had not something of yours, but now you\nhave no power over me, but must do what I please. I will go down with\nyou and see how you live down below, and you shall be my servant. Nay,\nno grumbling. You know you must. I know that just as well as you do, for\nKlas Starkwolt told it to me often and often!\"\n\nThe little man made as if he had not heard or understood one word of all\nthis. He began his crying and whining over again, and wept and screamed\nand howled most piteously for his little cap. John, however, cut the\nmatter short by saying--\n\n\"Have done. You are my servant, and I intend to make a trip with you.\"\n\nSo he gave up, especially as the others told him there was no remedy.\n\nJohn now flung away his old hat, and put on the cap, and set it firm on\nhis head lest it should slip off or fly away, for all his power lay in\nthe cap. He lost no time in trying its virtues, and commanded his new\nservant to fetch him food and drink. The servant ran away like the wind,\nand in a second was there again with bottles of wine, and bread, and\nrich fruits. So John ate and drank, and looked at the sports and dancing\nof the little ones, and it pleased him right well, and he behaved\nhimself stoutly and wisely, as if he had been a born master.\n\nWhen the cock had now crowed for the third time, and the little larks\nhad made their first twirl in the sky, and the infant light appeared in\nsolitary white streaks in the east, then it went hush, hush, hush,\nthrough the bushes and flowers and stalks, and the hills rent again, and\nopened up, and the little men went down. John gave close attention to\neverything, and found that it was exactly as he had been told, and,\nbehold! on the top of the hill, where they had just been dancing, and\nwhere all was full of grass and flowers, as people see it by day, there\nrose of a sudden, when the retreat was sounded, a bright glass point.\nWhoever wanted to go in stepped upon this. It opened, and he glided\ngently in, the grass closing again after him; and when they had all\nentered it vanished, and there was no further trace of it to be seen.\nThose who descended through the glass point sank quite gently into a\nwide silver tun, which held them all, and could have easily harboured a\nthousand such little people. John and his man went down into such a one\nalong with several others, all of whom screamed out, and prayed him not\nto tread on them, for if his weight came on them they were dead men. He\nwas, however, careful, and acted in a very friendly way towards them.\nSeveral tuns of this kind went up and down after each other, until all\nwere in. They hung by long silver chains, which were drawn and hung\nwithout.\n\nIn his descent John was amazed at the brilliancy of the walls between\nwhich the tun glided down. They were all, as it were, beset with pearls\nand diamonds, glittering and sparkling brightly, and below him he heard\nthe most beautiful music tinkling at a distance, so that he did not know\nwhat was become of him, and from excess of pleasure he fell fast asleep.\n\nHe slept a long time, and when he awoke he found himself in the most\nbeautiful bed that could be, such as he had never seen the like of in\nhis father's house, and it was in the prettiest chamber in the world,\nand his servant was beside him with a fan to keep away the flies and\ngnats. He had hardly opened his eyes when his little servant brought him\na basin and towel, and held him the nicest new clothes of brown silk to\nput on, most beautifully made. With these was a pair of new black shoes\nwith red ribbons, such as John had never beheld in Rambin or in\nRodinkirchen either. There were also there several pairs of beautiful\nshining glass shoes, such as are only used on great occasions. John was,\nas we may well suppose, delighted to have such clothes to wear, and he\nput them upon him joyfully. His servant then flew like lightning, and\nreturned with a breakfast of wine and milk, and beautiful white bread\nand fruits, and such other things as boys are fond of. He now perceived\nevery moment more and more, that Klas Starkwolt, the old cowherd, knew\nwhat he was talking about, for the splendour and magnificence he saw\nhere surpassed anything he had ever dreamt of. His servant, too, was the\nmost obedient one possible, a nod or a sign was enough for him, for he\nwas as wise as a bee, as all these little people are by nature John's\nbedchamber was all covered with emeralds and other precious stones, and\nin the ceiling was a diamond as big as a nine-pin bowl, that gave light\nto the whole chamber. In this place they have neither sun nor moon nor\nstars to give them light, neither do they use lamps or candlesticks of\nany kind, but they live in the midst of precious stones, and have the\npurest of gold and silver in abundance, and the skill to make it light\nboth by day and night, though indeed, properly speaking, as there is no\nsun there, there is no distinction between day and night, and they\nreckon only by weeks. They set the brightest and clearest precious\nstones in their dwellings, and in the ways and passages leading\nunderground, and in the places where they had their large halls, and\ntheir dances and their feasts, where they sparkled so as to make it\neternal day.\n\nWhen John had finished breakfast, his servant opened a little door in\nthe wall, where was a closet with the most beautiful silver and gold\ncups and dishes and other vessels and baskets filled with ducats and\nboxes of jewels and precious stones. There were also charming pictures,\nand the most delightful books he had seen in the whole course of his\nlife.\n\nJohn spent the morning looking at these things, and when it was midday a\nbell rang, and his servant said--\n\n\"Will you dine alone, sir, or with the large company?\"\n\n\"With the large company, to be sure,\" replied John. So his servant led\nhim out. John, however, saw nothing but solitary halls lighted up with\nprecious stones, and here and there little men and women, who appeared\nto him to glide in and out of the clefts and fissures of the rocks.\nWondering what it was the bells rang for, he said to his servant--\n\n\"But where is the company?\"\n\nScarcely had he spoken when the hall they were in opened out to a great\nextent, and a canopy set with diamonds and precious stones was drawn\nover it. At the same moment he saw an immense throng of nicely dressed\nlittle men and women pouring in through several open doors. The floor\nopened in several places, and tables, covered with the most beautiful\nware, and the most luscious meats and fruits and wines, placed\nthemselves beside each other, and the chairs arranged themselves along\nthe tables, and then the men and women took their seats.\n\nThe principal persons now came forward and bowed to John, and led him to\ntheir table, where they placed him among their most beautiful maidens, a\ndistinction which pleased John well. The party, too, was very merry, for\nthe underground people are extremely lively and cheerful, and can never\nstay long quiet. Then the most charming music sounded over their heads,\nand beautiful birds, flying about, sang most sweetly, and these were not\nreal birds but artificial ones which the little men make so ingeniously\nthat they can fly about and sing like natural ones.\n\nThe servants of both sexes who waited at table and handed about the\ngolden cups, and the silver and crystal baskets with fruit, were\nchildren belonging to this world, whom some casualty or other had thrown\namong the underground people, and who, having come down without securing\nany pledge, were fallen into the power of the little ones. These were\ndifferently clad. The boys and girls were dressed in short white coats\nand jackets, and wore glass shoes so fine that their step could never be\nheard, with blue caps on their heads, and silver belts round their\nwaists.\n\nJohn at first pitied them, seeing how they were forced to run about and\nwait on the little people, but as they looked cheerful and happy, and\nwere handsomely dressed, and had such rosy cheeks, he said to\nhimself--\"After all, they are not so badly off, and I was myself much\nworse when I had to be running after the cows and bullocks. To be sure I\nam now a master here, and they are servants, but there is no help for\nit. Why were they so foolish as to let themselves be taken and not get\nsome pledge beforehand? At any rate the time must come when they will be\nset at liberty, and they will certainly not be longer than fifty years\nhere.\"\n\nWith these thoughts he consoled himself, and sported and played away\nwith his little play-fellows, and ate, and drank, and made his servant\ntell him stories, for he would know everything exactly.\n\nThey sat at table about two hours. The principal person then rang a\nbell, and the tables and chairs all vanished in a whiff, leaving all the\ncompany on their feet. The birds now struck up a most lively air, and\nthe little people danced their rounds most merrily. When they were done,\nthe joyous sets jumped and leaped, and whirled themselves round and\nround, as if the world was grown dizzy. The pretty girls who sat next\nJohn caught hold of him and whirled him about, and, without making any\nresistance, he danced round and round with them for two good hours.\nEvery afternoon while he remained there he used to dance thus merrily\nwith them, and, to the last hour of his life, he used to speak of it\nwith the greatest glee. His language was--that the joys of heaven and\nthe songs and music of the angels, which the righteous hope to enjoy\nthere, might be excessively beautiful, but that he could conceive\nnothing to surpass the music and the dancing under the earth, the\nbeautiful and lively little men, the wonderful birds in the branches,\nand the tinkling silver bells in their caps.\n\n\"No one,\" said he, \"who has not seen and heard it, can form any idea\nwhatever of it.\"\n\nWhen the music and dancing were over it might be about four o'clock. The\nlittle people then disappeared, and went each about his own business or\npleasure. After supper they sported and danced in the same way, and at\nmidnight, especially on star-light nights, they slipped out of their\nhills to dance in the open air. John used then to say his prayers, a\nduty he never neglected either in the evening or in the morning, and go\nto sleep.\n\nFor the first week John was in the glass hill, he only went from his\nchamber to the great hall and back again. After the first week, however,\nhe began to walk about, making his servant show and explain everything\nto him. He found that there were in that place the most beautiful walks\nin which he might ramble about for miles, in all directions, without\never finding an end to them, so immensely large was the hill in which\nthe little people lived, and yet outwardly it seemed but a little place,\nwith a few bushes and trees growing on it.\n\nIt was extraordinary that, between the meads and fields, which were\nthick sown with hills and lakes and islands, and ornamented with trees\nand flowers in great variety, there ran, as it were, small lanes,\nthrough which, as through crystal rocks, one was obliged to pass to come\nto any new place; and the single meads and fields were often a mile\nlong, and the flowers were so brilliant and so fragrant, and the songs\nof the numerous birds so sweet, that John had never seen anything on\nearth like it. There was a breeze, and yet one did not feel the wind. It\nwas quite clear and bright, and yet there was no heat. The waves were\ndashing, still there was no danger, and the most beautiful little barks\nand canoes came, like white swans, when one wanted to cross the water,\nand went backwards and forwards of themselves. Whence all this came no\none knew, nor could John's servant tell anything about it, but one thing\nJohn saw plainly, which was, that the large carbuncles and diamonds that\nwere set in the roof and walls gave light instead of the sun, moon, and\nstars.\n\nThese lovely meads and plains were, for the most part, all lonesome. Few\nof the underground people were to be seen upon them, and those that were\njust glided across them as if in the greatest hurry. It very rarely\nhappened that any of them danced out there in the open air. Sometimes\nabout three of them did so, or, at the most, half a dozen. John never\nsaw a greater number together. The meads were never cheerful except when\nthe servants, of whom there might be some hundreds, were let out to\nwalk. This, however, happened but twice a week, for they were mostly\nkept employed in the great hall and adjoining apartments or at school.\n\nFor John soon found they had schools there also. He had been there about\nten months when one day he saw something snow-white gliding into a rock\nand disappearing.\n\n\"What!\" said he to his servant, \"are there some of you that wear white\nlike the servants?\"\n\nHe was informed that there were, but they were few in number, and never\nappeared at the large tables or the dances, except once a year, on the\nbirthday of the great Hill-king, who dwelt many thousand miles below in\nthe great deep. These were the oldest among them, some of them many\nthousand years old, who knew all things and could tell of the beginning\nof the world, and were called the Wise. They lived all alone, and only\nleft their chambers to instruct the underground children and the\nattendants of both sexes, for whom there was a great school.\n\nJohn was much pleased with this intelligence, and he determined to take\nadvantage of it; so next morning he made his servant conduct him to the\nschool, and was so well pleased with it that he never missed a day going\nthere. They were there taught reading, writing, and accounts, to compose\nand relate histories, stories, and many elegant kinds of work, so that\nmany came out of the hills, both men and women, very prudent and knowing\npeople in consequence of what they were taught there. The biggest, and\nthose of best capacity, received instruction in natural science and\nastronomy, and in poetry and in riddle-making, arts highly esteemed\namong the little people. John was very diligent, and soon became a most\nclever painter and drawer. He wrought, too, most ingeniously in gold and\nsilver and stones, and in verse and riddle-making he had no fellow.\n\nJohn had spent many a happy year here without ever thinking of the upper\nworld, or of those he had left behind, so pleasantly passed the time--so\nmany agreeable companions had he.\n\nOf all of them there was none of whom he was so fond as of a fair-haired\ngirl named Elizabeth Krabbe. She was from his own village, and was the\ndaughter of Frederick Krabbe, the minister of Rambin. She was but four\nyears old when she was taken away, and John had often heard tell of her.\nShe was not, however, stolen by the little people, but had come into\ntheir power in this manner. One day in summer she and other children ran\nout into the fields. In their rambles they went to the Nine-hills, where\nlittle Elizabeth fell asleep, and was forgotten by the rest. At night\nwhen she awoke, she found herself under the ground among the little\npeople. It was not merely because she was from his own village that John\nwas so fond of Elizabeth, but she was very beautiful, with clear blue\neyes and ringlets of fair hair, and a most angelic smile. Time flew away\nunperceived. John was now eighteen, and Elizabeth sixteen. Their\nchildish fondness was now become love, and the little people were\npleased to see it, thinking that by means of her they might get John to\nrenounce his power, and become their servant, for they were fond of him,\nand would willingly have had him to wait upon them, for the love of\ndominion is their vice. They were, however, mistaken. John had learned\ntoo much from his servant to be caught in that way.\n\nJohn's chief delight was walking about with Elizabeth, for he now knew\nevery place so well that he could dispense with the attendance of his\nservant. In these rambles he was always gay and lively, but his\ncompanion was frequently sad and melancholy, thinking on the land above,\nwhere men live, and where the sun, moon, and stars shine. Now it\nhappened in one of their walks, as they talked of their love, and it was\nafter midnight, they passed under the place where the tops of the glass\nhills used to open and let the underground people in and out. As they\nwent along, they heard of a sudden the crowing of several cocks above.\nAt this sound, which she had not heard for several years, Elizabeth felt\nher heart so affected that she could contain herself no longer, but\nthrowing her arms about John's neck, she bathed his cheek with her\ntears. At length she said--\n\n\"Dearest John, everything down here is very beautiful, and the little\npeople are kind and do nothing to injure me, but still I have been\nalways uneasy, nor ever felt any pleasure till I began to love you; and\nyet that is not pure pleasure, for this is not a right way of living,\nsuch as is fit for human beings. Every night I dream of my father and\nmother, and of our churchyard where the people stand so pious at the\nchurch door waiting for my father, and I could weep tears of blood that\nI cannot go into the church with them and worship God as a human being\nshould, for this is no Christian life we lead down here, but a delusive\nhalf-heathen one. And only think, dear John, that we can never marry, as\nthere is no priest to join us. Do, then, plan some way for us to leave\nthis place, for I cannot tell you how I long to get once more to my\nfather, and among pious Christians.\"\n\nJohn, too, had not been unaffected by the crowing of the cocks, and he\nfelt what he had never felt there before, a longing after the land where\nthe sun shines.\n\n\"Dear Elizabeth,\" said he, \"all you say is true, and I now feel it is a\nsin for Christians to stay here, and it seems to me as if our Lord said\nto us in that cry of the cocks, 'Come up, ye Christian children, out of\nthose abodes of illusion and magic. Come to the light of the stars, and\nact as children of the light.' I now feel that it was a great sin for me\nto come down here, but I trust I shall be forgiven on account of my\nyouth, for I was only a boy, and knew not what I did. But now I will not\nstay a day longer. They cannot keep _me_ here.\"\n\nAt these last words Elizabeth turned pale, for she recollected that she\nwas a servant, and must serve her fifty years.\n\n\"And what will it avail me,\" cried she, \"that I shall continue young,\nand be but as of twenty years when I go out, for my father and mother\nwill be dead, and all my companions old and grey; and you, dearest John,\nwill be old and grey also,\" cried she, throwing herself on his bosom.\n\nJohn was thunderstruck at this, for it had never before occurred to him.\nHe, however, comforted her as well as he could, and declared he would\nnever leave the place without her. He spent the whole night in forming\nvarious plans. At last he fixed on one, and in the morning he despatched\nhis servant to summon to his apartment six of the principal of the\nlittle people. When they came, John thus mildly addressed them--\n\n\"My friends, you know how I came here, not as a prisoner or servant, but\nas a lord and master over one of you, and of consequence over all. You\nhave now for the ten years I have been with you treated me with respect\nand attention, and for that I am your debtor. But you are still more my\ndebtors, for I might have given you every sort of vexation and\nannoyance, and you must have submitted to it. I have, however, not done\nso, but have behaved as your equal, and have sported and played with you\nrather than ruled over you. I have now one request to make. There is a\ngirl among your servants whom I love, Elizabeth Krabbe, of Rambin, where\nI was born. Give her to me and let us depart, for I will return to where\nthe sun shines and the plough goes through the land. I ask to take\nnothing with me but her and the ornaments and furniture of my chamber.\"\n\nHe spoke in a determined tone, and they hesitated and cast their eyes\nupon the ground. At last the oldest of them replied--\n\n\"Sir, you ask what we cannot grant. It is a fixed law that no servant\ncan leave this place before the appointed time. Were we to break through\nthis law our whole subterranean empire would fall. Anything else you\ndesire, for we love and respect you, but we cannot give up Elizabeth.\"\n\n\"You can, and you shall, give her up!\" cried John in a rage. \"Go, think\nof it till to-morrow. Return then at this hour. I will show you whether\nor not I can triumph over your hypocritical and cunning stratagems.\"\n\nThe six retired. Next morning, on their return, John addressed them in\nthe kindest manner, but to no purpose. They persisted in their refusal.\nHe gave them till the next day, threatening them severely in case they\nstill proved refractory.\n\nNext day, when the six little people appeared before him, John looked at\nthem sternly, and made no return to their salutations, but said to them\nshortly--\n\n\"Yes, or No?\"\n\nThey answered, with one voice, \"No.\" He then ordered his servant to\nsummon twenty-four more of the principal persons, with their wives and\nchildren. When they came they were in all five hundred men, women, and\nchildren. John ordered them forthwith to go and fetch pick-axes, spades,\nand bars, which they did in a second.\n\nHe now led them out to a rock in one of the fields, and ordered them to\nfall to work at blasting, hewing, and dragging stones. They toiled\npatiently, and made as if it were only sport to them.\n\nFrom morning till night their task-master made them labour without\nceasing, standing over them constantly to prevent them resting. Still\ntheir obstinacy was inflexible, and at the end of some weeks his pity\nfor them was so great that he was obliged to give over.\n\nHe now thought of a new species of punishment for them. He ordered them\nto appear before him next morning, each provided with a new whip. They\nobeyed, and John commanded them to lash one another, and he stood\nlooking on while they did it, as grim and cruel as an Eastern tyrant.\nStill the little people cut and slashed themselves and mocked at John,\nand refused to comply with his wishes. This he did for three or four\ndays.\n\nSeveral other courses did he try, but all in vain. His temper was too\ngentle to struggle with their obstinacy, and he commenced to despair of\never accomplishing his dearest wish. He began now to hate the little\npeople of whom he had before been so fond. He kept away from their\nbanquets and dances, and associated with none but Elizabeth, and ate and\ndrank quite solitary in his chamber. In short, he became almost a\nhermit, and sank into moodiness and melancholy.\n\nWhile in this temper, as he was taking a solitary walk in the evening,\nand, to divert his melancholy, was flinging the stones that lay in his\npath against each other, he happened to break a tolerably large one, and\nout of it jumped a toad. The moment John saw the ugly animal he caught\nhim up in ecstasy, and put him in his pocket and ran home, crying--\n\n\"Now I have her! I have my Elizabeth! Now you shall get it, you little\nmischievous rascals!\"\n\nOn getting home he put the toad into a costly silver casket, as if it\nwas the greatest treasure.\n\nTo account for John's joy, you must know that Klas Starkwolt had often\ntold him that the underground people could not endure any ill smell, and\nthat the sight, or even the smell, of a toad made them faint, and suffer\nthe most dreadful tortures, and that by means of one of those odious\nanimals one could compel them to do anything. Hence there are no bad\nsmells to be found in the whole glass empire, and a toad is a thing\nunheard of there. This toad must certainly have been enclosed in the\nstone from the creation, as it were, for the sake of John and Elizabeth.\n\nResolved to try the effect of his toad, John took the casket under his\narm and went out, and on the way he met two of the little people in a\nlonesome place. The moment he approached they fell to the ground, and\nwhimpered and howled most lamentably as long as he was near them.\n\nSatisfied now of his power, he, the next morning, summoned the fifty\nprincipal persons, with their wives and children, to his apartment. When\nthey came he addressed them, reminding them once again of his kindness\nand gentleness towards them, and of the good terms on which they had\nhitherto lived. He reproached them with their ingratitude in refusing\nhim the only favour he had ever asked of them, but firmly declared that\nhe would not give way to their obstinacy.\n\n\"Therefore,\" said he, \"for the last time, think for a minute, and if you\nthen say 'No,' you shall feel that pain which is to you and your\nchildren the most terrible of all pains.\"\n\nThey did not take long to deliberate, but unanimously replied \"No\"; and\nthey thought to themselves, \"What new scheme has the youth hit on with\nwhich he thinks to frighten wise ones like us?\" and they smiled as they\nsaid \"No.\" Their smiling enraged John above all, and he ran back a few\nhundred paces to where he had laid the casket with the toad under a\nbush.\n\nHe was hardly come within a few hundred paces of them when they all fell\nto the ground as if struck with a thunderbolt, and began to howl and\nwhimper, and to writhe, as if suffering the most excruciating pain. They\nstretched out their hands, and cried--\n\n\"Have mercy, have mercy! We feel you have a toad, and there is no escape\nfor us. Take the odious beast away, and we will do all you require.\"\n\nHe let them kick a few seconds longer, and then took the toad away. They\nthen stood up and felt no more pain. John let all depart but the six\nchief persons, to whom he said--\n\n\"This night, between twelve and one, Elizabeth and I will depart. Load\nthen for me three waggons with gold and silver and precious stones. I\nmight, you know, take all that is in the hill, and you deserve it; but I\nwill be merciful. Further, you must put all the furniture of my chamber\nin two waggons, and get ready for me the handsomest travelling carriage\nthat is in the hill, with six black horses. Moreover, you must set at\nliberty all the servants who have been so long here that on earth they\nwould be twenty years old and upwards; and you must give them as much\nsilver and gold as will make them rich for life, and make a law that no\none shall be detained here longer than his twentieth year.\"\n\nThe six took the oath, and went away quite melancholy; and John buried\nhis toad deep in the ground. The little people laboured hard, and\nprepared everything. At midnight everything was out of the hill; and\nJohn and Elizabeth got into the silver tun, and were drawn up.\n\nIt was then one o'clock, and it was midsummer, the very time that,\ntwelve years before, John had gone down into the hill. Music sounded\naround them, and they saw the glass hill open, and the rays of the light\nof heaven shine on them after so many years. And when they got out, they\nsaw the first streaks of dawn already in the east. Crowds of the\nunderground people were around them, busied about the waggons. John bid\nthem a last farewell, waved his brown cap three times in the air, and\nthen flung it among them. At the same moment he ceased to see them. He\nbeheld nothing but a green hill, and the well-known bushes and fields,\nand heard the town-clock of Rambin strike two. When all was still, save\na few larks, who were tuning their morning songs, they all fell on their\nknees and worshipped God, resolving henceforth to live a pious and a\nChristian life.\n\nWhen the sun rose, John arranged the procession, and they set out for\nRambin. Every well-known object that they saw awoke pleasing\nrecollections in the bosom of John and his bride; and as they passed by\nRodenkirchen, John recognised, among the people that gazed at and\nfollowed them, his old friend Klas Starkwolt, the cowherd, and his dog\nSpeed. It was about four in the morning when they entered Rambin, and\nthey halted in the middle of the village, about twenty paces from the\nhouse where John was born. The whole village poured out to gaze on these\nAsiatic princes, for such the old sexton, who had in his youth been at\nConstantinople and at Moscow, said they were. There John saw his father\nand mother, and his brother Andrew, and his sister Trine. The old\nminister Krabbe stood there too, in his black slippers and white\nnightcap, gaping and staring with the rest.\n\nJohn discovered himself to his parents, and Elizabeth to hers; and the\nwedding-day was soon fixed. And such a wedding was never seen before or\nsince in the island of Ruegen, for John sent to Stralsund and Greifswald\nfor whole boat-loads of wine and sugar and coffee; and whole herds of\noxen, sheep, and pigs were driven to the feast. The quantity of harts\nand roes and hares that were shot upon the occasion it were vain to\nattempt to tell, or to count the fish that was caught. There was not a\nmusician in Ruegen or in Pomerania that was not engaged, for John was\nimmensely rich, and he wished to display his wealth.\n\nJohn did not neglect his old friend Klas Starkwolt, the cowherd. He gave\nhim enough to make him comfortable for the rest of his days, and\ninsisted on his coming and staying with him as often and as long as he\nwished.\n\nAfter his marriage John made a progress through the country with his\nwife; and he purchased towns and villages and lands until he became\nmaster of nearly half Ruegen and a very considerable Count in the\ncountry. His father, old James Dietrich, was made a nobleman, and his\nbrothers and sisters gentlemen and ladies--for what cannot money do?\nJohn and his wife spent their days in doing acts of piety and charity.\nThey built several churches, and had the blessing of every one that knew\nthem, and died universally lamented. It was Count John Dietrich that\nbuilt and richly endowed the present church of Rambin. He built it on\nthe site of his father's house, and presented to it several of the cups\nand plates made by the underground people, and his own and Elizabeth's\nglass-shoes, in memory of what had befallen them in their youth. But\nthey were taken away in the time of the great Charles the Twelfth of\nSweden, when the Russians came on the island and the Cossacks plundered\neven the churches, and took away everything.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THORSTON BECAME RICH.\n\n\nWhen spring came Thorston made ready his ship and put twenty-four men on\nboard of her. When they came to Finland they ran her into a harbour, and\nevery day he went on shore to amuse himself.\n\nHe came one day to an open part of the wood, where he saw a great rock,\nand a little way out from it was a horribly ugly dwarf. He was looking\nover his head, with his mouth wide open, and it appeared to Thorston\nthat it stretched from ear to ear, and that the lower jaw came down to\nhis knees.\n\nThorston asked him why he acted so foolishly.\n\n\"Do not be surprised, my good lad,\" answered the dwarf, \"do you not see\nthat great dragon that is flying up there? He has taken off my son, and\nI believe that it is Odin himself that has sent the monster to do it. I\nshall burst and die if I lose my son.\"\n\nThen Thorston shot at the dragon, and hit him under one of the wings, so\nthat he fell dead to the earth; but Thorston caught the dwarf's child in\nthe air, and brought him to his father.\n\nThe dwarf was very glad, more rejoiced than any one can tell, and he\nsaid--\n\n\"I have to reward you for a great service, you who are the deliverer of\nmy son. Now choose your reward in silver or gold.\"\n\n\"Take your son,\" said Thorston; \"but I am not used to accept rewards for\nmy services.\"\n\n\"It would not be becoming,\" said the dwarf, \"if I did not reward you. I\nwill give you my vest of sheep's wool. Do not think it is a contemptible\ngift, for you will never be tired when swimming, or wounded, if you wear\nit next your skin.\"\n\nThorston took it and put it on, and it fitted him well, though it had\nappeared too small for the dwarf.\n\nThe dwarf next took a gold ring out of his purse and gave it to\nThorston, and bade him take good care of it, telling him he should never\nwant money while he had the ring.\n\nNext he gave him a black stone, and said--\n\n\"If you hide this stone in the palm of your hand no one will see you. I\nhave not many more things to offer you, or that would be of any value to\nyou. I will, however, give you a firestone for your amusement.\"\n\nHe took the stone out of his purse, and with it a steel point. The stone\nwas triangular, white on one side and red on the other, and a yellow\nborder ran round it. The dwarf said--\n\n\"If you prick the stone with the point in the white side there will come\non such a hailstorm that no one will be able to look at it. If you want\nto stop the shower you have only to prick on the yellow part, and there\nwill come so much sunshine that the hail will melt away. If you prick\nthe red side then there will come out of it such fire, with sparks and\ncrackling, that no one will be able to look at it. You may also get\nwhatever you will by means of this point and stone, and they will come\nof themselves back to your hand when you call them. I can give you no\nmore of such gifts.\"\n\nThorston then thanked the dwarf for his presents, and returned to his\nmen; and it was better for him to have made that voyage than to have\nstayed at home.\n\n\n\n\nGUDBRAND.\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a man who was called Gudbrand. He had a farm\nwhich lay far away on a hill, and he was therefore known as Gudbrand of\nthe Hillside. He and his wife lived so happily together, and were so\nwell matched, that do what the man would his wife was well pleased,\nthinking nothing in the world could be better. Whatever he did she was\nsatisfied. The farm was their own, and they had a hundred dollars which\nlay in a box, and in the stall they had two cows.\n\nOne day the woman said to Gudbrand.\n\n\"I think it would be well to take one of the cows to town and sell it,\nand so we shall have some money at hand. We are such fine folk that we\nought to have a little ready money, as other people have. As for the\nhundred dollars which lie in the chest, we must not make a hole in them,\nbut I do not see why we should keep more than one cow. We shall, too,\ngain something, for I shall then have only to look after one cow,\ninstead of having to litter and feed two.\"\n\nThis Gudbrand thought was right and reasonable, so he took the cow, and\nset off to town to sell it. When he arrived there he could find no one\nwho would buy the beast.\n\n\"Well, well,\" said he, \"I can go home again with the cow. I have stall\nand litter for her, and the road home is no longer than the road here.\"\n\nSo he began to go homewards again.\n\nWhen he had gone a little distance he met a man who had a horse he\nwanted to sell. So Gudbrand thought it was better to have a horse than a\ncow, and exchanged with him. He went on a bit further, and met a man\nwalking along driving a fat pig before him, and he thought it would be\nbetter to have a fat pig than a horse. So he exchanged with the man. He\nwent on a bit further, and met a man with a goat. A goat, he thought,\nwas better than a pig. So he exchanged with him. He went on a good bit\nfurther till he met a man who had a sheep, and he exchanged with him,\nfor he thought a sheep was always better than a goat. He went on again,\nand met a man with a goose. So he exchanged the sheep for the goose.\nThen he went a long, long way, and met a man with a cock. So he gave the\ngoose for the cock, for he thought to himself--\n\n\"It is better to have a cock than a goose.\"\n\nHe walked on till late in the day, and then as he was getting hungry he\nsold the cock for twelve shillings, and bought something to eat, for,\nthought Gudbrand of the Hillside--\n\n\"It is better to save one's life than have a cock.\"\n\nThen he walked on homeward till he came to the house of his nearest\nneighbour, and there he looked in.\n\n\"Well, how did you get on at the town?\" asked the neighbour.\n\n\"Only so and so,\" said the man. \"I cannot say I have had good or bad\nluck,\" and then he began and told them all that had happened.\n\n\"Well,\" said the neighbour, \"you will catch it when you get home to your\nwife. Heaven help you! I would not stand in your shoes.\"\n\n\"I think things might have been much worse,\" said Gudbrand of the\nHillside; \"but whether things have gone well or badly, I have such a\ngentle wife that she never says anything, do what I will.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the neighbour, \"I hear what you say, but I don't believe it.\"\n\n\"Shall we make a bet?\" said Gudbrand. \"I have a hundred dollars lying at\nhome in a chest, will you lay as much?\"\n\nThe neighbour was willing, so the bet was made. They waited till\nevening, and then set out for Gudbrand's house. The neighbour stood\noutside the door, while Gudbrand went inside to his wife.\n\n\"Good evening,\" said Gudbrand, when he was inside.\n\n\"Good evening,\" said his wife. \"Heaven be praised. Is it you?\"\n\nYes, it was he. His wife then asked him how things went at the town.\n\n\"Oh, but so-so,\" said Gudbrand, \"not much to boast of. When I came to\nthe town I could find no one to buy the cow, so I exchanged it for a\nhorse.\"\n\n\"Thanks for that!\" said the wife; \"we are such fine folk that we can\nride to church the same as other people, and as we can keep a horse we\nmight as well have one. Go and put the horse up, children.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Gudbrand, \"I have not got the horse. After I had gone a bit\nfurther I exchanged it for a pig.\"\n\n\"Well, well,\" said his wife, \"that was good. I should have done the\nsame. Thanks for that! now I shall have meat in the house to put before\nfolk when they come to see me. What could we do with a horse? People\nwould only have said that we had got too proud to walk to church. Go\nalong, children, and put the pig in the sty.\"\n\n\"But I have not got the pig either,\" said Gudbrand. \"When I had gone on\na bit further I exchanged it for a milch goat.\"\n\n\"Bless me,\" said the wife, \"you do everything well! When I think of it,\nwhat could we have done with a pig? Folk would only have said we eat up\nall we had. Now we have a goat we shall have milk and cheese, and we\nshall have the goat too. Run, children, and put up the goat.\"\n\n\"But I have not got the goat,\" said Gudbrand. \"I went on a bit, and\nexchanged it for a fine sheep.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the wife, \"you have done just what I should have\nwished--just as if I had done it myself. What did we want a goat for? I\nshould have had to go over hill and dale after it. Now we have a sheep\nI shall have wool and clothes in the house, and food as well. Go,\nchildren, and put up the sheep.\"\n\n\"But I have not got the sheep either,\" said Gudbrand. \"I went on a\nwhile, and then I exchanged it for a goose.\"\n\n\"You shall have thanks for that,\" said the wife, \"many thanks! What\nwould we have done with a sheep? I have no spinning-wheel nor distaff,\nand I should not care to bother about making clothes. We can buy\nclothes, as we have always done. Now we shall have roast goose, which I\nhave so often wished for, and I shall be able to stuff my little pillow\nwith the down. Go and bring in the goose, children.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Gudbrand, \"I have not got the goose either. When I had gone\na bit further I gave it in exchange for a cock.\"\n\n\"Heaven knows,\" said his wife, \"how you thought all this out so well! It\nis just what I should have done myself. A cock! why it is just the same\nas if you had bought an eight-day clock, for the cock crows at four\no'clock every morning, so we shall be able to get up in good time. What\ncould we have done with a goose? I don't know how to cook it, and I can\nstuff my pillow with moss. Run and fetch the cock in, children.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Gudbrand, \"I have not got the cock either. When I had gone a\nbit further I got hungry, and so I sold the cock for twelve shillings so\nthat I might live.\"\n\n\"Thank God you did so,\" said his wife; \"whatever you do you do it just\nas I should have wished. What could we have done with a cock? We are our\nown masters, and can lie in bed in the morning as late as we please.\nThank Heaven you have come back again safe. You do everything so well\nthat we can well spare the cock, the goose, the pig, and the cow.\"\n\nThen Gudbrand opened the door.\n\n\"Have I won the hundred dollars?\" said he, and the neighbour was obliged\nto own that he had.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DWARF-SWORD TIRFING.\n\n\nSuaforlami, the second in descent from Odin, was king over Gardarike\n(Russia). One day he rode a-hunting, and sought long after a hart, but\ncould not find one the whole day. When the sun was setting, he found\nhimself plunged so deep in the forest that he knew not where he was. On\nhis right hand he saw a hill, and before it he saw two dwarfs. He drew\nhis sword against them, and cut off their retreat by getting between\nthem and the rock. They offered him ransom for their lives, and he asked\nthem their names, and they said that one of them was called Dyren and\nthe other Dualin. Then he knew that they were the most ingenious and the\nmost expert of all the dwarfs, and he therefore demanded that they\nshould make for him a sword, the best that they could form. Its hilt was\nto be of gold, and its belt of the same metal. He moreover commanded\nthat the sword should never miss a blow, should never rust, that it\nshould cut through iron and stone as through a garment, and that it\nshould always be victorious in war and in single combat. On these\nconditions he granted the dwarfs their lives.\n\nAt the time appointed he came, and the dwarfs appearing, they gave him\nthe sword. When Dualin stood at the door, he said--\n\n\"This sword shall be the bane of a man every time it is drawn, and with\nit shall be perpetrated three of the greatest atrocities, and it will\nalso prove thy bane.\"\n\nSuaforlami, when he heard that, struck at the dwarf, so that the blade\nof the sword penetrated the solid rock. Thus Suaforlami became possessed\nof this sword, and he called it Tirfing. He bore it in war and in single\ncombat, and with it he slew the giant Thiasse, whose daughter Fridur he\ntook.\n\nSuaforlami was soon after slain by the Berserker Andgrim, who then\nbecame master of the sword. When the twelve sons of Andgrim were to\nfight with Hialmar and Oddur for Ingaborg, the beautiful daughter of\nKing Inges, Angantyr bore the dangerous Tirfing, but all the brethren\nwere slain in the combat, and were buried with their arms.\n\nAngantyr left an only daughter, Hervor, who, when she grew up, dressed\nherself in man's attire, and took the name of Hervardar, and joined a\nparty of Vikinger, or pirates. Knowing that Tirfing lay buried with her\nfather, she determined to awaken the dead, and obtain the charmed blade.\nShe landed alone, in the evening, on the Island of Sams, where her\nfather and uncles lay in their sepulchral mounds, and ascending by night\nto their tombs, that were enveloped in flame, she, by the force of\nentreaty, obtained from the reluctant Angantyr the formidable Tirfing.\n\nHervor proceeded to the court of King Gudmund, and there one day, as she\nwas playing at tables with the king, one of the servants chanced to take\nup and draw Tirfing, which shone like a sunbeam. But Tirfing was never\nto see the light but for the bane of men, and Hervor, by a sudden\nimpulse, sprang from her seat, snatched the sword, and struck off the\nhead of the unfortunate man.\n\nAfter this she returned to the house of her grandfather, Jarl Biartmar,\nwhere she resumed her female attire, and was married to Haufud, the son\nof King Gudmund. She bore him two sons, Angantyr and Heidreker; the\nformer of a mild and gentle disposition, the latter violent and fierce.\nHaufud would not permit Heidreker to remain at his court, and as he was\ndeparting, his mother, among other gifts, presented him with Tirfing.\n\nHis brother accompanied him out of the castle. Before they parted,\nHeidreker drew out his sword to look at and admire it, but scarcely did\nthe rays of light fall on the magic blade, when the Berserker rage came\non its owner, and he slew his gentle brother.\n\nAfter this he joined a body of Vikinger, and became so distinguished\nthat King Harold, for the aid he lent him, gave him his daughter Helga\nin marriage. But it was the destiny of Tirfing to commit crime, and\nHarold fell by the sword of his son-in-law. Heidreker was afterwards in\nRussia, and the son of the king was his foster-son. One day as they were\nout hunting, Heidreker and his foster-son happened to be separated from\nthe rest of the party, when a wild boar appeared before them.\n\nHeidreker ran at him with his spear, but the beast caught it in his\nmouth and broke it across. Then he alighted and drew Tirfing, and killed\nthe boar. On looking round him, he saw no one but his foster-son, and\nTirfing could only be appeased with warm human blood, so Heidreker slew\nthe poor youth.\n\nIn the end Heidreker was murdered in his bed by his Scottish slaves, who\ncarried off Tirfing. His son Angantyr, who succeeded him, discovered the\nthieves and put them to death, and recovered the magic blade. He made\ngreat slaughter in battle against the Huns, but among the slain was\ndiscovered his own brother, Landur.\n\nSo ends the history of the Dwarf-Sword Tirfing.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPrinted by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty, at the\nEdinburgh University Press.","title":"Folk-Lore and Legends: Scandinavian","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":48426}