from the floor." He had no sooner said this than a large, gray cat ran into the hall. Thor put his hand under it and tried to lift it, but the cat arched its back as high as Thor stretched his hands. To do his best, he could only get one foot off the floor. Thor's eyes flashed. "I will wrestle with any‚"he challenged. Utgard Loke sneered, "I'll call in Ellie, my old nurse. She shall try her strength with you."

one,

An old woman, bent, wrinkled and toothless crept in. Thor seized her, but the tighter his grasp the firmer she stood. Her strength seemed to grow. After a hard struggle in which Thor strained every muscle he sank down.

"That's enough," said the king.

The feeble old woman crept out, leaving Thor bewildered. After the defeats, Thor and his companions were feasted.

The next morning, at the city gate Utgard Loke said farewell. "How has your journey turned out?"

"I have brought shame on myself," answered Thor frankly and honestly. "It vexes me that you will hereafter think of me as a weak fellow."

"Now, I'll tell you the truth about these things," said Utgard Loke. "I have beaten you by trickery, not strength. In the forest, I tied the sack with iron wire in such a way you couldn't find the knot. Thrice you struck me with the hammer. Each blow would have killed me, but I slipped a mountain about me. The blows made deep clefts in its side.

You were hungry, but you contended against fire itself, which goes like the wind and devours all. Thalfe raced with Huge, my own thought, and what man is so swift as thought. The horn which you strove to empty had at its end the sea, and you drank so much that the waters are at ebb. The cat was the Midgard serpent encircling the world. When you lifted one foot our hearts were in terror. Ellie was old age itself, which brings all to the ground. I can defend myself against your might only by magic."

Thor was very angry. He swung his hammer to crush the giant, but lo, he had vanished. Thor went slowly back to Asgard with his two servants.

NO LAND LIKE OURS

There is no other land like thee,
No dearer shore.

Thou art the shelter of the free,
The home, the port of liberty,
Thou hast been, and shalt ever be
Till time is o'er.

-James Gates Percival.

THE STORY OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE

ADAPTED BY CARRIE G. AINSWORTH

In the year 670 A. D., Wilfrid, an Anglo-Saxon prince and Bishop of York, left Hexham, in England, with a train of attendants, on a journey to Rome. A severe storm drove them to the shore of Friesland, a portion of what is now Germany. The people of this country were heathens, but the travelers were kindly received by them and their king.

On Christmas eve they found the people gathered around the oak of Giessen, sacred to Thor, the god of thunder of the Norse Mythology.

Old Hunrad, the chief priest of Thor, proclaimed the night to be the "death-night of the Sun-god, Baldur the Beautiful." Thor was angry with his people, and had demanded the most precious thing in the kingdom as a sacrifice. If this was not given, he said he would send much trouble to the people.

The people yielded with fear and trembling; and Asulf, the son of Alvold and the darling of the people, was chosen as the victim. The boy consented. Armed like a soldier, he knelt before the great stone altar to receive the fatal stroke. Hunrad's weapon was raised; he was about to strike the sudden fatal blow when it was stopped by Wil

frid, who turned it aside with his staff. The great axe fell on the stone altar and broke to pieces, but Asulf was saved.

Then Wilfrid preached Christ to the astonished people and told them of the birth of the Saviour,

fairer than Baldur, kinder than Freya the Good, greater than Odin the Wise." When the people were quiet and were wondering at his words, he hewed down the Oak tree of Thor, behind which stood a young Fir tree, pointing to the skies.

Hunrad, the priest, was angry, but the people, seeing that their god was powerless, stood and listened. Pointing to the Fir tree, Wilfrid spoke again: "This little tree shall be your holy tree tonight. Its wood is the wood of peace, for your homes are built of fir. It is the type of everlasting life, for its leaves are ever green, and see, its finger points to heaven. Let this be called the tree of the Christ Child. Gather about it in your homes, not in the wild forest. There it will shelter no deeds of blood, but loving gifts and rites of kindness."

In the great hall of the Duke Alvold's home, all the people listened breathlessly while Wilfrid told the story of Bethlehem and the angels' song. The boy Asulf, at his mother's knee, whispered into her ear, "Mother, listen now; I hear the angels singing behind the tree." Some say it was true; others say it was Prince Wilfrid, with his companions, at the lower end of the hall, softly chanting their Christ

THE STORY OF THE CHRISTMAS TREE

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mas hymn, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men."

So runs one of the loveliest of the legends of the Christmas tree. Whether true or not, it gives us another meaning to the trees which adorn our homes and churches at Christmas time. This brings out the most precious lessons of the Christmastide, and weaves them into a picture, both beautiful and real, never to be forgotten.

PRAYER

More things are wrought by prayer

Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice

Rise like a fountain for me night and day.

For what are men better than sheep and goats
That nourish a blind life within the brain, .

If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer

Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way

Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.

-Alfred Tennyson.