that the small folks never took it to heart, and only requested
the Giant to be careful forever afterwards to examine the acre
of ground where he intended to squat himself.

It is a very pleasant picture to imagine Antaeus standing among
the Pygmies, like the spire of the tallest cathedral that ever
was built, while they ran about like pismires at his feet; and
to think that, in spite of their difference in size, there were
affection and sympathy between them and him! Indeed, it has
always seemed to me that the Giant needed the little people
more than the Pygmies needed the Giant. For, unless they had
been his neighbors and well wishers, and, as we may say, his
playfellows, Antaeus would not have had a single friend in the
world. No other being like himself had ever been created. No
creature of his own size had ever talked with him, in thunder-
like accents, face to face. When he stood with his head among
the clouds, he was quite alone, and had been so for hundreds of
years, and would be so forever. Even if he had met another
Giant, Antaeus would have fancied the world not big enough for
two such vast personages, and, instead of being friends with
him, would have fought him till one of the two was killed. But
with the Pygmies he was the most sportive and humorous, and
merry-hearted, and sweet-tempered old Giant that ever washed
his face in a wet cloud.

His little friends, like all other small people, had a great
opinion of their own importance, and used to assume quite a
patronizing air towards the Giant.

"Poor creature!" they said one to another. "He has a very dull