xpeditions, to Utgard (the _Outer_ Garden, central seat
of Jotun-land), is remarkable in this respect. Thialfi was with him, and
Loke. After various adventures, they entered upon Giant-land; wandered
over plains, wild uncultivated places, among stones and trees. At
nightfall they noticed a house; and as the door, which indeed formed
one whole side of the house, was open, they entered. It was a simple
habitation; one large hall, altogether empty. They stayed there.
Suddenly in the dead of the night loud noises alarmed them. Thor grasped
his hammer; stood in the door, prepared for fight. His companions within
ran hither and thither in their terror, seeking some outlet in that rude
hall; they found a little closet at last, and took refuge there. Neither
had Thor any battle: for, lo, in the morning it turned out that the
noise had been only the _snoring_ of a certain enormous but peaceable
Giant, the Giant Skrymir, who lay peaceably sleeping near by; and this
that they took for a house was merely his _Glove_, thrown aside there;
the door was the Glove-wrist; the little closet they had fled into was
the Thumb! Such a glove;--I remark too that it had not fingers as ours
have, but only a thumb, and the rest undivided: a most ancient, rustic
glove!

Skrymir now carried their portmanteau all day; Thor, however, had his
own suspicions, did not like the ways of Skrymir; determined at night to
put an end to him as he slept. Raising his hammer, he struck down into
the Giant's face a right thunder-bolt blow, of force to rend rocks. The
Giant merely awoke; rubbed his cheek, and said, Did a leaf fall? Again
Thor struck, so soon as Skrymir again slept; a better blow than before;
but the Giant only murmured, Was that a grain of sand? Thor's third
stroke was with both his hands (the "knuckles white" I suppose), and
seemed to dint deep into Skrymir's visage; but he merely checked his
snore, and remarked, There must be sparrows roosting in this tree, I
think; what is that they have dropt?--At the gate of Utgard, a place so
high that you had to "strain your neck bending back to see the top
of it," Skrymir went his ways. Thor and his companions were admitted;
invited to take share in the games going on. To Thor, for his part, they
handed a Drinking-horn; it was a common feat, they told him, to drink
this dry at one draught. Long and fiercely, three times over, Thor
drank; but made hardly any impression. He was a weak child, they told
him: cou