“I really pity the poor giant,” thought Hercules.  “If it wearies me so much in ten minutes, how must it have wearied him in a thousand years!”

O my sweet little people, you have no idea what a weight there was in that same blue sky, which looks so soft and aerial above our heads!  And there, too, was the bluster of the wind, and the chill and watery clouds, and the blazing sun, all taking their turns to make Hercules uncomfortable!  He began to be afraid that the giant would never come back.  He gazed wistfully at the world beneath him, and acknowledged to himself that it was a far happier kind of life to be a shepherd at the foot of a mountain than to stand on its dizzy summit and bear up the firmament with his might and main.  For, of course, as you will easily understand, Hercules had an immense responsibility on his mind, as well as a weight on his head and shoulders.  Why, if he did not stand perfectly still, and keep the sky immovable, the sun would perhaps be put ajar!  Or, after nightfall, a great many of the stars might be loosened from their places, and shower down, like fiery rain, upon the people’s heads!  And how ashamed would the hero be if, owing to his unsteadiness beneath its weight, the sky should crack and show a great fissure quite across it!

I know not how long it was before, to his unspeakable joy, he beheld the huge shape of the giant, like a cloud, on the far-off edge of the sea.  At his nearer approach, Atlas held up his hand, in which Hercules could perceive three magnificent golden apples, as big as pumpkins, all hanging from one branch.

“I am glad to see you again,” shouted Hercules, when the giant was within hearing.  “So you have got the golden apples?”

“Certainly, certainly,” answered Atlas; “and very fair apples they are.  I took the finest that grew on the tree, I assure you.  Ah! it is a beautiful spot, that garden of Hesperides.  Yes; and the dragon with a hundred heads is a sight worth any man’s seeing.  After all, you had better have gone for the apples yourself.”

“No matter,” replied Hercules.  “You have had a pleasant ramble, and have done the business as well as I could.  I heartily thank you for your trouble.  And now, as I have a long way to go, and am rather in haste—­and as the king, my cousin, is anxious to receive the golden apples—­will you be kind enough to take the sky off my shoulders again?”

“Why, as to that,” said the giant, chucking the golden apples into the air twenty miles high, or thereabouts and catching them as they came down—­“as to that, my good friend, I consider you a little unreasonable.  Cannot I carry the golden apples to the king, your cousin, much quicker than you could?  As His Majesty is in such a hurry to get them, I promise you to take my longest strides.  And, besides, I have no fancy for burdening myself with the sky, just now.”

Here Hercules grew impatient, and gave a great shrug of his shoulders.  It being now twilight, you might have seen two or three stars tumble out of their places.  Everybody on earth looked upward in affright, thinking that the sky might be going to fall next.