In a _recherché_ article in the _Foreign Quarterly Review_ we meet with
the following marvellous story of Sterkodder, a sort of giant-killing
hero of the North, who, having reached his 90th year, became infirm,
blind, and eager to die. To leave the world in a natural way was out of
the question; and to be dispatched to the Hall of Odin by an ignoble
hand was scarcely less to be dreaded. Leaning on two crutches, with a
sword at each side, he waited for some one to give him the mortal
stroke. To tempt the avarice of such a one, he suspended from his neck a
valuable gold chain. He slew a peasant passing, who, rallying him on his
infirm state, had ventured to beg one of his swords, as neither could
any longer be of service to him. At last his good fortune brought him a
worthy executioner in Hather, the son of a prince whom he had slain. The
young hero was hunting, and seeing the old man, he ordered two of his
attendants to tease him. Both lost their lives for their temerity. The
prince then advanced; and the old man, after relating his great actions,
desired the former to kill him. To make the inducement stronger, he
displayed the golden chain, which would be the reward of the deed; and
to excite his rage, as well as avarice, he avowed that it was he who had
slain the late prince, and that revenge was the sacred duty of the son.
Influenced by both considerations, the latter consented to behead him.
Sterkodder exhorted him to strike manfully. The head was accordingly
severed from the body at a single blow; and as it touched the earth, the
teeth fastened themselves furiously in the ground.
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