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Updated: June 30, 2025
Wildeve made no reply; and probably feeling that the sooner he treated them the sooner they would go, he produced a stone jar, which threw a warm halo over matters at once. "That's a drop of the right sort, I can see," said Grandfer Cantle, with the air of a man too well-mannered to show any hurry to taste it. "Yes," said Wildeve, "'tis some old mead. I hope you will like it."
Chief Evans, of the Pittsburgh Fire Department, was hustling around with a force of twenty-four more firemen, just brought up to relieve those who have been working so heroically since Saturday. Morris M. Mead, superintendent of the Bureau of Electricity, headed a force of sixteen sanitary inspectors from Pittsburgh, who are doing great work among the dead. How Bodies are Treated.
We could not see to study, and we were playing boisterously about the benches of our improvised schoolroom, Marjie, Mary Gentry, Lettie and Jim Conlow, Tell Mapleson, old Tell's boy, O'mie, both the Mead boys, and the four Anderson children. Suddenly Marjie, who was watching the rain beating against the west window, called, "Phil, come here! What is that long, narrow, red light down by the creek?"
The centre of the hall was open, but down each side ran two long tables, which were at this time groaning with great haunches of venison, legs of mutton, and trenchers of salmon, interspersed with platters of wild fowl, and flanked by tankards and horns of mead and ale.
The invited fallen heroes are called Einherier; their sport and pastime is to go out every day and fight and kill each other; but toward evening they awake to life again and ride home as friends to Valhalla, where they feast on pork of the barrow Saerimmer, and where Odin's maidens, the Valkyrias, fill their horns with mead.
"Ho, Ægir," he said, "what of the banquet that you have offered to the Dwellers in Asgard?" Old Ægir mumbled and pulled at his beard. At last he looked his guest in the face and told why the banquet was not being made ready. The mead for the feast was not yet brewed.
Hepzibah brought in more bowls of flip, and we watched John plunge the red-hot loggerheads in, till the foam arose, and the bitter-sweet smell filled the room. We were passing the bowls round, and drinking the flip, when Matthew Mead, the tythingman, came in. He sat down and watched us. Then he went over to John Perry, and said: "Don't drink any more, John. You have had enough."
Here comes some one!" exclaimed Sam. and the boys put out their light, which was burning low. "It's Dr. Mead; I know his step," said Jack. "I'll bet he's on his way to Bagot's room," spoke Sam. "Cracky! I'm glad it isn't me." "It's only good luck it isn't!" put in Jack.
A feast was made and King Siggeir and his men came to the Hall of the Branstock. Fires were lighted and tables were spread, and great horns of mead went around the guests. In the middle of the feasting a stranger entered the Hall. He was taller than the tallest there, and his bearing made all do him reverence. One offered him a horn of mead and he drank it.
Yea, if thou dost my bidding to wear my gift in the fight No hunter of the wild-wood at the changing of the night Shall see my shape on thy grave-mound or my tears in the morning find With the dew of the morning mingled; nor with the evening wind Shall my body pass the shepherd as he wandereth in the mead And fill him with forebodings on the eve of the Wolfings' need.
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