he big tent where we get our dinners, nor the little tent
where we sleep, nor the pictures at evening in the Amphitheatre (that's
a great hall where they hold meetings), nor lots of other things. Next
year I hope you'll come with us, and have a good time.

Your friend,
BOB.

MIMIR'S WELL.

A SCANDINAVIAN MYTH.

BY JULIA CLINTON JONES.

In the north of Europe there is a rugged land, where the winters are
long and dark, with short bright summers. Nine hundred years ago the
people there were pagans, believing in gods and giants, and their
mythology is full of wonderful stories. As these myths, or sacred
fables, tell of strange adventures, I think you will like them quite as
well as even the _Arabian Nights_.

Take your maps now, and find this wild north land. It is called
Scandinavia, and comprises Norway and Sweden. The home of these Northern
gods was a city called Asgard, built above the clouds, in the midst of
which stood Valhalla, the hall of the chief god, Odin. Such a marvellous
place as this was! It had a golden roof that reflected light over all
the earth, just like the sun, and its ceiling was supported by spears,
while millions of shields formed its walls, over which were draped coats
of mail. A huge wolf stood before its immense gates, through which eight
hundred men could march abreast. Around the walls flowed a deep river,
through whose waves Odin's guests were forced to wade. But I can not
tell you now of Odin's feast, which was always being held in Valhalla,
nor of his guests, the heroes, whom the beautiful Battle Maidens brought
there on bloody shields from the earth. Asgard was overshadowed by the
mighty tree Igdrasil. This tree was more marvellous than any of which
you ever heard; no cork, nor India rubber, nor banyan tree could begin
to compare with it; for this was the Life-Tree, and had been growing
before creation. The horrible dragon, Death, gnawed constantly at its
roots, but three sisters, the Nornas, watering them daily from the
Life-Spring, kept the tree flourishing. Seated under its shade, the
elder sisters (Past and Present) spun away briskly at the wonderful web
of Time, which the youngest (the Future) amused herself by tearing to
pieces. Far down in Giant-land, where the roots began to shoot, was an
ancient well, guarded by the good giant Mimir (Memory). There the gods
always went for a morning draught that should make them wise in their
daily tasks, since this was the wel