so loudly that the forest trembled. Thor
could not undo the giant's wallet, and in his wrath he smote the
somnolent lubber with his mallet, a crushing blow. Skrymir simply
awoke, and inquired whether a leaf had not fallen upon his head from
the oak-tree under which he was lying. Conceive the chagrin and shame
of Thor at this question! A second time Thor let fly at the giant with
his mallet. This time it sank into his skull up to the handle, but with
no more satisfactory result. The giant merely inquired whether an acorn
had not dropped on his head, and wanted to know how Thor found himself,
whether he slept well or not; to which queries Thor muttered an answer,
and went away, determined to make a third and final effort with his
mallet, which had never failed him until then. About daybreak, as
Skrymir was taking his last snooze, Thor uplifted his hammer, clutching
it so fiercely that his knuckles became white. Down it came, with
terrific emphasis, crushing through Skrymir's cheek, up to the handle.
Skrymir sat up and inquired if there were not birds perched on the tree
under which he had been lodging; he thought he felt something dropping
on his head,--some moss belike. Alas for Thor and his weapon! For once
he found himself worsted, and his mightiest efforts regarded as mere
flea-bites; for Skrymir's talk about leaves and acorns and moss was
merely a sly piece of humor, levelled at poor crestfallen Thor, as he
afterwards acknowledged. After this incident, Thor and his two
companions, the peasant's children, Thjalfi and Roeska, and Skrymir went
their ways, and came to the high-gated city of Utgard, which stood in
the middle of a plain, and was so lofty that Thor had to throw back his
head to see its pinnacles and domes. Now Thor was by no means small;
indeed, in Asgard, the city of the AEsir, he was regarded as a giant;
but here in Utgard Skrymir told him he had better not give himself any
airs, for the people of that city would not tolerate any assumption on
the part of such a mannikin!

Utgard-Loki, the king of the city, received Thor with the utmost
disdain, calling him a stripling, and asked him contemptuously what he
could do. Thor professed himself ready for a drinking-match. Whereupon
Utgard-Loki bade his cup-bearer bring the large horn which his
courtiers had to drain at a single draught, when they had broken any of
the established rules and regulations of his palace. Thor was thirsty,
and thought he could manag