ght ear, and put by the leavings.' And ay they
rode, and on they rode, till they came to a dark and awesome glen,
and there the bull stopped and the lady lighted down. And the bull
said to her: 'Here you must stay while I go on and fight the deil.
And you must sit here on that stone, and move not hand or foot till
I come back, or else I'll never find you again. And if everything
round about you turns blue, I shall have beaten the deil; but if
all things turn red, then the deil will have conquered me.'"

"And so he left her, mammy, to go and fight the deil?"

"Ay, he did, Vala; and she sat still, singing."

"Sing me the lady's song, mammy."

Then Nanna intoned softly the strangest, wildest little tune. It was
like a Gregorian chant, and had but three notes, but to these she
gave a marvelous variety. David listened spellbound to the entreating
voice:

"'Seven long years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clamb for thee,
The bloody shirt I wrang for thee,
And wilt thou not waken and come to me?'

But I'm thinking he never came back to the lady."

"Oh, yes, he did, mammy," said Vala, confidently. "Helga Storr told
me he came back a fine prince with a gold crown on his head, and the
deil went away empty and roaring mad."

"What is it you are telling about, Nanna?" said David, his face eager
and alight with interest.

She rose up then, with Vala in her arms, her eyes shining with her
sweet, motherly story-telling. "It is only an old tale, David," she
answered. "I know not who made it up. My mother told it to me, and
her mother to her, and so back through years that none can count.
Yes, indeed; what little child does not know the story of the big
brown bull of Norraway?"

"I never heard of it before," said David.

"To be sure; your mother did not live to talk to you--poor little
lad!"

"Now, then, Nanna, tell it to me for my mother's sake." And he sat
down on the cricket by her side, and took Vala on his knee; and Nanna
laughed, and then, with the little formal importance of the reciter,
said: "Well, so it shall be, then. Here beginneth the story of the
big brown bull of Norraway and his fight with the deil." And the
old tale fell from her lips full of charm, and David listened with
all the delight of a child. And when it had been twice told, Nanna
began to talk of the burnt Njal and the Icelandic sagas, and the
more so as she saw David was full of strange wonder and delight,
and that every