o crown it all, Thor was thirsty, as well he
might be; and one after another he raised to his lips and emptied three
great barrels of mead, the foamy drink of the giants. Then indeed Thrym
was amazed, for Thor's giant appetite had beaten that of the giants
themselves.

"Never before saw I a bride so hungry," he cried. "And never before one
half so thirsty!"

But Loki, the waiting maid, whispered to him softly, "The truth is,
great Thrym, that my dear mistress was almost starved. For eight days
Freia has eaten nothing at all, so eager was she for Jotunheim."

Then Thrym was delighted, you may be sure. He forgave his hungry bride,
and loved her with all his heart. He leaned forward to give her a kiss,
raising a corner of her veil; but his hand dropped suddenly, and he
started up in terror, for he had caught the angry flash of Thor's eye,
which was glaring at him through the bridal veil. Thor was longing for
his hammer.

"Why has Freia so sharp a look?" Thrym cried. "It pierces like lightning
and burns like fire."

But again the sly waiting maid whispered timidly, "Oh, Thrym, be not
amazed! The truth is, my poor mistress's eyes are red with wakefulness
and bright with longing. For eight nights Freia has not known a wink of
sleep, so eager was she for Jotunheim."

Then again Thrym was doubly delighted, and he longed to call her his
very own dear wife. "Bring in the wedding gift!" he cried. "Bring in
Thor's hammer, Mioelnir, and give it to Freia, as I promised; for when I
have kept my word she will be mine--all mine!"

Then Thor's big heart laughed under his woman's dress, and his fierce
eyes swept eagerly down the hall to meet the servant who was bringing in
the hammer on a velvet cushion. Thor's fingers could hardly wait to
clutch the stubby handle which they knew so well; but he sat quite still
on the throne beside ugly old Thrym, with his hands meekly folded and
his head bowed like a bashful bride.

The giant servant drew nearer, nearer, puffing and blowing, strong
though he was, beneath the mighty weight. He was about to lay it at
Thor's feet (for he thought it so heavy that no maiden could lift it or
hold it in her lap), when suddenly Thor's heart swelled, and he gave a
most unmaidenly shout of rage and triumph. With one swoop he grasped the
hammer in his iron fingers; with the other arm he tore off the veil that
hid his terrible face, and trampled it under foot; then he turned to the
frightened king, who cow