So much favor did Frithiof find with the aged monarch, that he was besought to remain at the court during the winter. On one occasion he repaid this hospitality by saving the lives of the king and queen when they were on their way to a feast. The ice over which they were passing broke, and they would have sunk into the river below had not Frithiof by main force pulled the pony and sleigh out of the water. Somewhat later, while accompanying the royal party on a visit to the woods and fields where the new beauty of the springtime could be fully enjoyed, Frithiof was left alone with King Ring. Feeling weary, the old man lay down upon a cloak spread for him by his companion, and fell asleep with his head upon the younger man's knee. As he lay thus, a coal-black raven from a near-by tree called in hoarse whispers to Frithiof: "Take his life, now that he is in thy power." But from another bough a bird, white as snow, admonished him: "Respect old age and be true to the trust that has been placed in thee." Thereupon Frithiof cast his sword from him as far as it could be thrown. Soon the king aroused himself from the sleep that he had merely pretended, and said in kindly tones: "I know thee now to be a brave and loyal friend; and thy trustworthiness shall be rewarded, Frithiof. Do not be surprised that I speak thy name, for I have known thee from the first. Even now the darkness of death is closing round me, and when the light of Midgard [Footnote: Midgard, the name given in Norse mythology to earth, as distinguished from Asgard (the home of the gods) and Hel (the lower world).] fades from my sight, I shall die willing that thou marry Ingeborg and rule my kingdom until my young son shall have grown to manhood." Frithiof, whose noble nature had been deeply touched by the king's generosity, would have departed from Ringland soon afterward, but with great difficulty was prevailed upon to stay. And so it came about that when in a little time the king died, the long years of trial endured by Ingeborg and Frithiof were brought to an end, and their constancy was rewarded. To fill the measure of their joy, Halfdan, who was now reigning alone, Helge having died, became reconciled to them and gladly agreed to their union. Indeed, it was he who led his sister to the altar in the restored temple of Balder and gave her into the safe- keeping of her faithful lover. When you think how old your grandmother and grandfather seem, and then remember that they have lived less than a hundred years, you feel that a story which has been living for hundreds of years is indeed very old. Such a story is the one that you have just been reading. Many more children than you could possibly imagine, if you were trying to picture them all in one place--especially children of Norway, Sweden and Denmark--have delightedly read or listened to this same interesting tale.