The others welcomed the blind god to the ring and made him happy by telling him that Baldur smiled at all of their strokes. "Let me throw next," said Hodur, the blind god. Loki stood by him and directed his hand as Hodur threw the mistletoe. Poor Baldur! The mistletoe pierced his heart through and through. He fell backward dead. Hodur was wild with grief. The other gods knew that the treacherous Loki had done it, and did not blame Hodur. Frigga asked which of the gods would dare to ride to Loki's home to bring Baldur back. Hermod, called the nimble, an older brother of Baldur, said he would go. Woden, his father, told him to take the horse Sleipnir. Sleipnir had never carried any one but Woden himself. He had twice as many legs as any other horse. He made eight tracks instead of four. Hermod mounted Sleipnir and rode fast for nine days and nine nights until he came to the land of Death, where Loki loved to stay. Hela, who ruled there, said Baldur might return if all things above mourned for him. [Illustration: WODEN ON THE THRONE. Thor on the left, Freya on the right, holding mistletoe. Loki at the bottom, suffering for the murder of Baldur. From an ancient bas-relief.] Hermod rode back and asked all things if Baldur should return. All begged for Baldur but one old hag, who sat on the side of a mountain. Everything else wept for Baldur. Tears stood on the rocks about her as we have seen drops of water on the hardest rock in early morning; the leaves of the trees shed tears of grief. This old hag refused to weep. Baldur could not return. After the test was over, the gods believed that the old creature on the mountain side was Loki disguised in this way. It must have been the evil Loki, for nothing else could have been so cruel. Loki met his punishment at last, but that did not save Baldur the Beautiful, the golden-haired god, whom his blind brother, dwelling in darkness, slays again at every even fall. THE FORGET-ME-NOT _German_ There is a legend connected with the name of the little blue forget-me-not which everyone loves so much. It is said that a boy and a girl were walking by a river that flows into the Rhine. The girl saw a lovely flower growing just by the water's edge. The bank of the river was steep and the water swift. "Oh, the beautiful flower!" she cried. "I will get it for you," said the boy. He sprang over the side of the steep bank and, catching hold of the shrubs and bushes, made his way to the place where the flower grew. He tried to tear the plant from the earth with both hands, hoping to get it all for her who was watching him from the bank above. The stem broke and, still clasping the flower, he fell backward into the rushing stream. "Forget me not!" he cried to her as the waters bore him down to the falls below. She never did forget her blue-eyed friend who had lost his life trying to get her a flower.