g her cavalier of the previous day, smiled
and bowed to him. The young man glowed with pleasure, and diffidently
renewed his attentions. Day after day the lady of the spinning-wheel
joined the company, and it was noted that the girls were brighter and
more diligent, and the young men more gentle and courteous, for her
coming. It was whispered among them that she was a nixie from the
Mummel-lake far under the mountains, for never mortal was so richly
endowed with beauty and grace. As time went on the son of the house grew
more and more melancholy as his love for the fair unknown became deeper.
Only during the brief hour of her visit would he show any cheerfulness.
All the rest of the day he would mope in silent wretchedness. His
friends saw with distress the change which had come over him, but they
were powerless to alter matters. The lady could not be persuaded to
remain beyond her usual hour, nor to give any hint of her identity.

One day, thinking to prolong her visit, the young man put back the hands
of the clock. When the hour drew near for her to depart, he slipped out
of the house so that he might follow her and find out where she lived.
When the hour struck, the lady, who seemed to have feared that she was
late, walked hastily from the house in the direction of the lake. So
quickly did she walk that the youth following in her path could scarcely
keep pace with her. She did not pause when she reached the shore, but
plunged directly into the water. A low, moaning sound rose from the
waves, which boiled and bubbled furiously, and the young man, fearing
that some evil had befallen the maid, sprang in after her, but the cruel
currents dragged him down, and he sank out of sight.

Next day his body was found floating on the lake by some woodcutters,
and the nixie of the Mummel-lake was seen no more.

The Wild Huntsman

One of the most interesting Rhine myths is that concerning the Wild
Huntsman, which is known all over Rhineland, and which is connected
with many of its localities. The tale goes that on windy nights the Wild
Huntsman, with his yelling pack of hounds, sweeps through the air, his
prey departing souls. The huntsman is, of course, Odin, who in some of
his aspects was a hunter-god. The English legend of Herne the Hunter,
who haunts Windsor Park, is allied to this, and there can be little
doubt that Herne is Odin. Indeed, it is here suggested that the name
Herne may in some way be connected with one of Odin