“I come,” answered the disguised Loki, “from the plains of Ida, where the gods meet for pleasant pastime, as well as to talk of the weightier matters of their kingdom.”

“And how do they while away their time to-day?” asked the queen.

“They have a pleasant game which they call Balder’s Honor,” was the answer. “The shining hero stands before them as a target, and each one tries his skill at hurling some weapon toward him. First Odin throws at him the spear Gungner, which never before was known to miss its mark; but it passes harmlessly over Balder’s head. Then Thor takes up a huge rock, and hurls it full at Balder’s breast; but it turns in its course, and will not smite the sun-bright target. Then Tyr seizes a battle-axe, and strikes at Balder as though he would hew him down; but the keen edge refuses to touch him: and in this way the Asa-folk show honor to the best of their number.”

The Asa-queen smiled in the glad pride of her mother-heart, and said, “Yes, every thing shows honor to the best of Odin’s sons; for neither metal nor wood nor stone nor fire nor water will touch Balder to do him harm.”

“Is it true, then,” asked Loki, “that every thing has made an oath to you, and promised not to hurt your son?”

And the queen, not thinking what harm an unguarded word might do, answered, “Every thing has promised, save a little feeble sprig that men call the mistletoe. So small and weak it is, that I knew it could never harm any one; and so I passed it by, and did not ask it to take the oath.”

Then Loki went out of Fensal Hall, and left the Asa-queen at her spinning. And he walked briskly away, and paused not until he came to the eastern side of Valhal, where, on the branches of an old oak, the mistletoe grew. Rudely he tore the plant from its supporting branch, and hid it under his cloak. Then he walked leisurely back to the place where the Asa-folk were wont to meet in council.

The next day the Asas went out, as usual, to engage in pleasant pastimes on the plains of Ida. When they had tired of leaping and foot-racing and tilting, they placed Balder before them as a target again; and, as each threw his weapon toward the shining mark, they laughed to see the missile turn aside from its course, and refuse to strike the honored one. But blind Hoder stood sorrowfully away from the others, and did not join in any of their sports. Loki, seeing this, went to him and said,—

“Brother of the gloomy brow, why do you not take part with us in our games?”

“I am blind,” answered Hoder. “I can neither leap, nor run, nor throw the lance.”