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Updated: June 7, 2025
Ju's are the best, though she mustn't know it; funny without being personal. It was terribly hard to get such a mob, too. How many are there altogether, Norn?" "Seventeen," replied Elinor, counting. "I hope it will work all right when I pull the string. I've fixed the bottom of that lantern so it ought to fall out when I give a hard jerk, and all the bags will tumble down in a shower."
He craved back his liberty, and, as the Norn tells us later in Goetterdaemmerung, "tried to free himself by gnawing at the runes on the shaft of the spear."
"We've got a surprise for you, Norn, but we won't tell till we've had lunch; will we, Ju?" "Not till the very last crumb is done for," declared Judith, emphatically, putting down her parcels on the dressing-room couch. "You may not like it very much, Elinor " "Nonsense! Don't put such ideas in her head," cried Patricia stabbing her hat-pins into her hat to secure it on the hanger.
"We'll be along in a little while," replied Patricia easily. "Save a seat for us if you can." When he had moved on she whispered excitedly: "Now's your chance, Norn! I'll skirmish for laggards and report." She came back in a moment, triumphant. "There isn't a soul in sight," she announced. "Hustle while the coast's clear. Someone may come back at any moment."
Aren't you thankful I made you put on your best duds, Norn? There's nothing like being contented when one feeds, and I couldn't partake of the stalled ox with any satisfaction in my old school rags." Judith cuddled close to Bruce on the settee while Elinor went for her wraps.
Don't you think I might do with less, Norn? I can make it up with practicing, you know." Elinor shook her head and Mrs. Spicer counseled briskly, "Better stick tight to rules, my dear. This Madame knows her business, it seems, and if your operatic friend, says three, it must be as she commands. Thank goodness, she didn't tell you to spend every afternoon there."
Standing so straight and tall, with the sheen of the moon on her faultless features, he thought she looked the incarnation of some prescient Norn, fit for the well of Urda. She made no reply; and he touched his hat, and rode rapidly away in the direction of the town, carrying an indelible impression of the mysterious picture under the pines.
The words died on her tongue, as Elinor suddenly emerged from the portrait class door, her face radiant and with an exclamation of quick pleasure at the sight of them. "I got my criticism! And he said the work was good! Now I can write to Bruce," and her voice rang with a thrilling note of joy that carried Patricia with her. "Good old Norn!" she cried, with a mighty hug.
"Three pounds of candy for the modeling and composition class, four for the head and illustration class, and five for the life," was the prompt response. Patricia giggled. "You're in for it, Norn. You have to pony up for the head and the night life, too. I'm in luck to be in the mudpie department." "What is the initiation itself?" asked Elinor, as the girl turned away.
In one place at the roots of Yggdrasil was a fair fountain called the Urdar-well, where the three Norn maidens, who knew the past, present, and future, dwelt with their pets, the two white swans. This was magic water in the fountain, which the Norns sprinkled every day upon the giant tree to keep it green water so sacred that everything which entered it became white as the film of an eggshell.
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