glittering steel, came up the hill. He sat down on a huge rock at the
top of the hill. As the people waited, a queer little man was seen
coming slowly up the hill. His back was bent, and his white hair hung
about his shoulders. At his side he carried a sword so bright that the
lightning seemed to play about its edge, as he walked.

Slowly he went to the top of the hill and stood before the giant. It was
Mimer, the master. He loosed the sword from his side and raised it above
his head. "Are you ready?" he asked. "Yes; strike," said the giant,
laughing, for he was not afraid. One, two, three times the sword flashed
about Mimer's head. Then it fell again at his side. "I do not wish to
hurt you," he said, "but if you will take off your armor and place it on
that stone, I will show you what this wonderful blade can do." The giant
only laughed again--laughed so loud and so long that the very earth
seemed to tremble. Then he took off the armor and laid it on the rock.
Mimer stepped back, raised the sword again, swung it about his head
until the light seemed to blind the people. Then it came down. The
people waited. There was no clash of iron. All was still.

Then Mimer stepped up to the armor and touched it with his foot. It fell
apart, and the rock beneath it fell apart, too. Half the rock started to
roll down the hill. On, on it went, faster and faster, and fell with a
mighty splash into the river at the foot of the hill, and if you should
go to that far-away country you could see it lying there, far down below
the surface of the water.

Then a mighty shout arose! Mimer's friends, and the great king, too,
joined in the applause. The giant, no longer boastful, stooped down,
gathered up the two parts of the armor, and went with his friends into a
far country. Mimer took the wonderful sword and went back to his place