warrior enough, besides, though hardly so good at any other
weapon as he was with his tongue) climbed upon a toadstool,
and, from that elevated position, addressed the multitude. His
sentiments were pretty much as follows; or, at all events,
something like this was probably the upshot of his speech:

"Tall Pygmies and mighty little men! You and all of us have
seen what a public calamity has been brought to pass, and what
an insult has here been offered to the majesty of our nation.
Yonder lies Antaeus, our great friend and brother, slain,
within our territory, by a miscreant who took him at
disadvantage, and fought him (if fighting it can be called) in
a way that neither man, nor Giant, nor Pygmy ever dreamed of
fighting, until this hour. And, adding a grievous contumely to
the wrong already done us, the miscreant has now fallen asleep
as quietly as if nothing were to be dreaded from our wrath! It
behooves you, fellow-countrymen, to consider in what aspect we
shall stand before the world, and what will be the verdict of
impartial history, should we suffer these accumulated outrages
to go unavenged.

"Antaeus was our brother, born of that same beloved parent to
whom we owe the thews and sinews, as well as the courageous
hearts, which made him proud of our relationship. He was our
faithful ally, and fell fighting as much for our national
rights and immunities as for his own personal ones. We and our
forefathers have dwelt in friendship with him, and held
affectionate intercourse as man to man, through immemorial
generations. You remember how often our entire people have
reposed in his great shadow, and how our little ones have