deep and fine wrinkles when he smiles, and do justice to his nose and upper lip? Who will paint those delicate elevations and depressions of his cheeks, that terrible brilliancy of his eyes, his subtle and crafty forehead, and his hair at once stiff and wavy? Who will paint this immortal youth who yet everywhere reveals his old age, or this old man whose face mocks at everything like a reckless youth? Here is a theme without a model, a theme for a master of the art.
SECTION VII. THE IRON POST.
The following story from the south of Germany illustrates how stories can be remodeled and changed as to their external adornment and still preserve their fundamental feature. The reader will not fail to discover Loke in the following tradition, entitled Der Stock im Eisen, a story which in its most original form must date back to the time when Loke was known in Germany.
Opposite St. Stephen's Tower in Vienna there is found, it is said, one of the old landmarks of this city, the so-called Stock im Eisen (the iron post). It is a post that has in the course of time become blackened and charred, and into which nail after nail has been driven so close together that there is not room for a single one more, and the post is literally inclosed in an iron casing. This covering of iron keeps the dry post in an upright position, and near the ground it is fastened by an iron ring with unusually wonderful lock. In olden times this post was a landmark, for to it extended the great Wienerwald. In connection with it the following tale is told by H. Meinert:
A young good-looking locksmith apprentice, by name Reinbert,
had secretly won the heart and become engaged to his master's
daughter Dorothea; but there was not much hope that she
