prince and grew to be a hero, a hero with a heart
of gold. Though he could fight, and was as strong as any lion, yet he
could love too and be as gentle as a child.

The father and mother of the hero-boy lived in a strong castle near
the banks of the great Rhine river. Siegmund, his father, was a rich
king, Sieglinde, his mother, a beautiful queen, and dearly did they
love their little son Siegfried.

The courtiers and the high-born maidens who dwelt in the castle
honored the little Prince, and thought him the fairest child in all
the land, as indeed he was.

Sieglinde, his queen-mother, would oftimes dress her little son in
costly garments and lead him by the hand before the proud, strong
men-at-arms who stood before the castle walls. Naught had they but
smiles and gentle words for their little Prince.

When he grew older, Siegfried would ride into the country, yet always
would he be attended by King Siegmund's most trusted warriors.

Then one day armed men entered the Netherlands, the country over which
the King Siegmund ruled, and the little Prince was sent away from the
castle, lest by any evil chance he should fall into the hands of the
foe.

Siegfried was hidden away safe in the thickets of a great forest, and
dwelt there under the care of a blacksmith, named Mimer.

Mimer was a dwarf, belonging to a strange race of little folk called
Nibelungs. The Nibelungs lived for the most part in a dark little town
beneath the ground. Nibelheim was the name of this little town and
many of the tiny men who dwelt there were smiths. All the livelong
day they would hammer on their little anvils, but all through the long
night they would dance and play with tiny little Nibelung women.

It was not in the little dark town of Nibelung that Mimer had his
forge, but under the trees of the great forest to which Siegfried had
been sent.

As Mimer or his pupils wielded their tools the wild beasts would start
from their lair, and the swift birds would wing their flight through
the mazes of the wood, lest danger lay in those heavy, resounding
strokes.

But Siegfried, the hero-boy, would laugh for glee, and seizing the
heaviest hammer he could see he would swing it with such force upon
the anvil that it would be splintered into a thousand pieces.

Then Mimer the blacksmith would scold the lad, who was now the
strongest of all the lads under his care; but little heeding his
rebukes, Siegfried would fling himself merrily out of