"Yes," replied Frigga, "everything, that is, except one tiny little shrub, very small and harmless, and I didn't take the trouble to visit it."

"And what is that harmless little shrub, my dear?" asked the old woman, her eyes twinkling with wicked delight.

"It is the mistletoe that grows on an oak tree over in the meadow east of Valhalla," answered Frigga.

"Well, well, surely that could do no harm," said the old woman. "I will go back now and watch them at their play. Good day, my lady," and with that she hobbled

away.

But no sooner was she out of sight than she suddenly became erect. She shook off her old bonnet and shawl, and there in place of a poor old woman, feeble and bent, stood wicked Loki himself.

Hurrying away to the meadow east of Valhalla, he picked a sprig of mistletoe and in a trice was back again on Ida Plain, where the gods were still at their merry game. Going up to Höder, the blind brother of Balder, he said, "Why do you not throw something in honor of dear Balder?"

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Alas," replied poor Höder, "I haven't anything to throw, and besides I can't see where Balder stands."

"I will find something for you," said wicked Loki, "and I will guide your hand. Here is a tiny green twig. That will make a fine little arrow."

Höder, thinking no evil, took the twig from Loki's hand

and did as he was bidden. Oh, the dreadful thing that then befell! Away flew the little arrow straight to Balder's heart, and in a moment the beautiful god of the sun lay dead upon the field. Alas! the dream had come true.

"So on the floor lay Balder dead; and round
Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, darts, and spears,
Which all the gods in sport had idly thrown
At Balder, whom no weapon pierced or clove;
But in his breast stood fixt the fatal bough

Of mistletoe, which Loki the Accuser gave
To Höder, and unwitting Höder threw.

'Gainst that alone had Balder's life no charm."

MATTHEW ARNOLD

The gods could not speak for horror. Like statues they stood for an instant, and then a long cry of sorrow and dismay burst from their lips. The end of sunshine and summer and happiness had come. A dark shadow of gloom spread itself over earth and sky; the birds that had sung carols of joy to the morning were silent; the sweet flowers that sprang up in the fields to greet Balder all faded and died, for the light of the summer had gone. Balder, the beautiful god of the sun, was dead.

Then the gods with sorrowful hearts began to prepare for Balder's funeral. They lifted his lifeless form upon their war shields and bore it down to the sea, where his own. beautiful ship lay waiting. Gently they laid him upon a pile of crimson velvet and cloth of gold. They placed beside him his bow and spear, his sword and shield.

And then as the custom was, the great funeral pyre was lighted, a sudden gleam of brightness flashed out over the water, the flames rose higher and higher, until the horizon was blazing and the heavens were filled with a lurid fire.

Slowly the great ship moved out to sea, and at last it sank beneath the waves, just as we have seen the sun slip below the western horizon on some still November evening, leaving a faint glow of brightness to lighten the world for a little while. So Balder's ship sank into the sea. He was gone, the beautiful summer was ended, and the long cold winter waited at the doors.

NOVEMBER

THE birds have flown away,

The flowers are dead and gone,

The clouds look cold and gray

Around the setting sun.

The clouds look cold and gray
Around the setting sun.

The trees with solemn sighs
Their naked branches swing;

The winter winds arise,
And mournfully they sing.

The winter winds arise,

And mournfully they sing.

ELIZA LEE FOLLEN

YULETIDE CUSTOMS

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OU have noticed in the early winter that the sun seems to sink lower and lower in the south. We do not see it so high up in the sky as in the glad summer time, when the fields and meadows are fresh and green, when fruit and berries are on trees and bushes, and when grain and nuts are ripening.

Day by day it drops lower and lower toward the south, and the days grow shorter and shorter. Then it

seems to hesitate. Will it turn and come back, or will it sink out of sight forever? We know that it will return and will bring again the joyous summer, but the people long ago were afraid that it had gone forever. They thought the gods were angry with them and were taking away the light and warmth of the sun.

Oh, how cold and cruel was the winter! How hard it was to get food! How terrible it would be if spring should never come again!

But perhaps they could appease the gods. Perhaps if they should do certain things on the shortest days of the year, the sun god would turn back and begin to creep a little higher in the sky, until at last the beautiful summer should

come once more.