and
crept in at the windows; for the cottage was old, and a blind
hurricane might almost have mistaken it for a heap of brushwood. But
Thule was quite as happy as if the hut had been a palace. He loved the
winter-beauty of his mother's face, and the silvery hair half hidden
under her black cap. All the fire they burned was made of the dry
sticks he gathered in the forest, and more than half the money they
used was earned by his small hands.

In one of the ice-months of the year, when the weather was sharper
than a serpent's tooth, Thule came home from a hard day's work; and,
the chillier he grew, the more he whistled to keep up a brave heart.
Looking at the horizon before him, he saw the cold glare which we call
Northern Lights, but which he knew to be the flickering of helmets and
shields and spears.

"The warlike maidens are out to-night," thought the boy: "they are
going to the battle-fields to decide who is worthy to be slain. How I
love to see the sky lighted up with the flash of their armor! Odin,
grant I may one day be a hero, and walk over the bridge of a rainbow!"

Then Thule went to his whistling again; but, just as he struck into
the forest where the deep shadows lay, he heard a faint moan, which
sounded like a human voice, or might have been a sudden gust of wind
in a hollow tree.

"Perchance it is some poor creature even colder than I," thought the
boy: "I hope not a _troll_!"

Hurrying to the spot whence the sound came, he found an ugly,
long-nosed dwarf lying on the ground, nearly perishing with cold. It
was growing late, and the boy himself was benumbed; but he went
briskly to work, chafing the hands and face of the stranger, even
taking off his own blue jacket to wrap it about the dwarf's neck.

"Poor old soul, you shall not die of cold!" said he; then, helping him
to rise, he added cheerily, "We will go to my mother's cottage, and
have a warm supper of oat-cakes and herrings; and our fire of dry
boughs will do you good."

The noble boy knew there was barely supper enough for two, but did not
mind going hungry to bed for charity's sake. In the ear of his heart,
he heard the words of his mother:--

"Never fear starving, my son, but freely share your last loaf with the
needy."

They walked through the forest, the old man leaning heavily on the
youth's shoulder.

"Why should you befriend a poor wretch who cannot repay you?" whined
the dwarf in a hollow voice which startled Thule, it was so li