But Hercules, you must understand, was wiser than this numskull
of a Giant, and had thought of a way to fight him--huge,
earth-born monster that he was--and to conquer him too, in
spite of all that his Mother Earth could do for him. Watching
his opportunity, as the mad Giant made a rush at him, Hercules
caught him round the middle with both hands, lifted him high
into the air, and held him aloft overhead.

Just imagine it, my dear little friends. What a spectacle it
must have been, to see this monstrous fellow sprawling in the
air, face downwards, kicking out his long legs and wriggling
his whole vast body, like a baby when its father holds it at
arm's length towards the ceiling.

But the most wonderful thing was, that, as soon as Antaeus was
fairly off the earth, he began to lose the vigor which he had
gained by touching it. Hercules very soon perceived that his
troublesome enemy was growing weaker, both because he struggled
and kicked with less violence, and because the thunder of his
big voice subsided into a grumble. The truth was that unless
the Giant touched Mother Earth as often as once in five
minutes, not only his overgrown strength, but the very breath
of his life, would depart from him. Hercules had guessed this
secret; and it may be well for us all to remember it, in case
we should ever have to fight a battle with a fellow like
Antaeus. For these earth-born creatures are only difficult to
conquer on their own ground, but may easily be managed if we
can contrive to lift them into a loftier and purer region. So
it proved with the poor Giant, whom I am really a little sorry
for, notwithstanding his uncivil way of treating strangers who