But at that very moment his foot slipped in the monster’s blood, and he fell upon the sword and was instantly killed.

Siegfried was filled with horror when he saw what had happened.  He sprang upon his horse’s back and fled as fast as possible from the dreadful scene.

“What happened to Siegfried after that?  Did he have any more adventures?” asked Bertha.

“Yes, indeed.  There were enough to fill a book.  But there is one in particular you girls would like to hear.  It is about a beautiful princess whom he freed from a spell which had been cast upon her.”

“What was her name, papa?” asked Gretchen.

“Brunhild, the Queen of Isenland.  She had been stung by the thorn of sleep.”

Odin, the great god, had said, “Brunhild shall not awake till some hero is brave enough to fight his way through the flames which shall constantly surround the palace.  He must then go to the side of the sleeping maiden and break the charm by a kiss upon her forehead.”

When Siegfried, in his wanderings, heard the story of Brunhild, he said, “I will make my way through the flames and will myself rescue the fair princess.”

He leaped upon the back of his magic steed, and together they fought their way through the fire that surrounded the palace of the sleeping beauty.  He reached the gates in safety.  There was no sign of life about the place.  Every one was wrapped in a deep sleep.

Siegfried made his way to the room of the enchanted princess.  Ah! there she lay, still and beautiful, with no knowledge of what was going on around her.

The young knight knelt by her side.  Leaning over her, he pressed a kiss upon her forehead.  She moved slightly; then, opening her blue eyes, she smiled sweetly upon her deliverer.

At the same moment every one else in the palace woke up and went on with whatever had been interrupted when sleep overcame them.

Siegfried remained for six months with the fair Brunhild and her court.  Every day was given up to music and feasting, games and songs.  Time passed like a beautiful dream.  No one knows how long the young knight might have enjoyed this happy life if Odin had not sent two birds.  Thought and Memory, to remind him there were other things for him yet to do.

He did not stop to bid Brunhild farewell, but leaped upon his horse’s back and rode away in search of new adventures.

“Dear me, children,” exclaimed their father, looking at the clock, “it is long past the time you should be in your soft, warm beds.”

“Papa, do you know what day to-morrow is?” whispered Bertha, as she kissed him good night.

“My darling child’s birthday.  It is ten years to-morrow since your eyes first looked upon the sunlight.  They have been ten happy years to us all, though our lives are full of work.  What do you say to that, my little one?”

“Very happy, papa dear.  You and mother are so kind!  I ought to be good as well as happy.”