flight over the wide world.  Near the great eagle perched a hawk, and four antlered deer browsed among the buds of Yggdrasil.  At the foot of the tree coiled a huge serpent, who was always gnawing hungrily at its roots, with a whole colony of little snakes to keep him company—­so many that they could never be counted.  The eagle at the top of the tree and the serpent at its foot were enemies, always saying hard things of each other.  Between the two skipped up and down a little squirrel, a tale bearer and a gossip, who repeated each unkind remark and, like the malicious neighbour that he was, kept their quarrel ever fresh and green.

In one place at the roots of Yggdrasil was a fair fountain called the Urdar-well, where the three Norn maidens, who knew the past, present, and future, dwelt with their pets, the two white swans.  This was magic water in the fountain, which the Norns sprinkled every day upon the giant tree to keep it green—­water so sacred that everything which entered it became white as the film of an eggshell.  Close beside this sacred well the AEsir had their council hall, to which they galloped every morning over the rainbow bridge.

But Father Odin, the king of all the AEsir, knew of another fountain more wonderful still; the two ravens whom he sent forth to bring him news had told him.  This also was below the roots of Yggdrasil, in the spot where the sky and ocean met.  Here for centuries and centuries the giant Mimer had sat keeping guard over his hidden well, in the bottom of which lay such a treasure of wisdom as was to be found nowhere else in the world.  Every morning Mimer dipped his glittering horn Gioell into the fountain and drew out a draught of the wondrous water, which he drank to make him wise.  Every day he grew wiser and wiser; and as this had been going on ever since the beginning of things, you can scarcely imagine how wise Mimer was.

Now it did not seem right to Father Odin that a giant should have all this wisdom to himself; for the giants were the enemies of the AEsir, and the wisdom which they had been hoarding for ages before the gods were made was generally used for evil purposes.  Moreover, Odin longed and longed to become the wisest being in the world.  So he resolved to win a draught from Mimer’s well, if in any way that could be done.

One night, when the sun had set behind the mountains of Midgard, Odin put on his broad-brimmed hat and his striped cloak, and taking his famous staff in his hand, trudged down the long bridge to where it ended by Mimer’s secret grotto.

“Good-day, Mimer,” said Odin, entering; “I have come for a drink from your well.”

The giant was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chin, his long white beard falling over his folded arms, and his head nodding; for Mimer was very old, and he often fell asleep while watching over his precious spring.  He woke with a frown at Odin’s words.  “You want a drink from my well, do you?” he growled.  “Hey!  I let no one drink from my well.”