Loki represented fire.  He had in him elements of good, but because of the fact that he had used his power often to harm, as does fire, instead of to bless, he was feared and hated and avoided; and thus he became jealous of Balder.

For a myth which the Greeks and Romans invented about the sun, see the story of Phaethon, in this volume.

[Illustration:  Strange opal lights filtered through the water]

THE PUNISHMENT OF LOKI

Adapted by Anna McCaleb

After Balder’s death the gods felt that they had little to make them happy.  Their thoughts dwelt always on their loss, or on their desire to punish Loki; and in neither of these thoughts was there any joy, for to the pure minds of the gods, the thought of violence could bring nothing but pain.

One day the sea-god Aegir sent to the dwellers in Asgard an invitation to a banquet in his sea caverns, and all accepted except Thor, who had business that called him elsewhere.  On the appointed morning they appeared at Aegir’s palace, and while at first they forced themselves to smile and appear cheerful, in compliment to their host, they soon found themselves, because of the novelty of all about them, becoming genuinely interested.  The palace was of coral, pink and white—­rough on the outside, but smooth and polished within; and the floors were strewn with sand so fine and white that it looked like marble.  Draperies of bright-colored seaweed hung everywhere, and the gay sea flowers met their eyes at every turn, while the dishes and cups in which the feast was served were the most delicate pearl-tinted shells.  Strange opal lights filtered through the water and into the banqueting hall, and great whales and sea snakes looked in through the windows on the gods as they sat at table.

All was cheerfulness and merriment, but suddenly the gods felt a chill come over them, as if a wind from Hela’s ice-bound realm had rushed past.  Turning, they saw Loki on the threshold.  With a muttered excuse for his lateness he slipped into his seat; and then, since none except his host greeted him, and since the merry talk was not resumed, he glanced about the table and said: 

“Pretty manners are these!  Does no one pledge me in wine?  Does no one have a word for me?”

Painfully the gods forced themselves to take up their conversation, though all avoided talking directly to Loki, whose expression became more lowering every moment.  At length Odin turned to his host.

“This servant, Funfeng, is deft and skilful.  Even in my palace I have not his superior.”

Aegir bowed.  “Since the king of the gods is pleased with Funfeng, Funfeng is no longer my servant, but the servant of Odin.  He shall wait upon the heroes in Valhalla.”

With a cry of jealous rage Loki sprang to his feet.  “Never!” he cried, and he struck Funfeng so violently that he fell dead.