it on Olympus, and then Pelion on top of that—thinking so to get a good ladder to climb into heaven by. Now those lads suffered for it, and it served them right, for if was a very insolent trick. But you see we are not scheming anything against the gods, so why should not we two roll these mountains one on top of the other, so as to get a good view from a commanding position?
Cha. And could we two by ourselves lift and carry Pelion or Ossa?
Merc. Why not, Charon? you don't mean to say that we are weaker than those two boys,—we, who are divinities?
Cha. No; but the thing itself seems, to my mind, impossible.
Merc. Very likely; because you're so illiterate, Charon, and destitute altogether of the poetic faculty. But that grand Homer makes a road into heaven in two lines—he claps the mountains together so easily. I wonder, too, that this should seem to you such a prodigy, when you know how Atlas bears the weight of the whole globe himself, and carries us all on his back. I suppose you've heard, too, of my brother Hercules, how he supplied Atlas's place once, just to allow him a little rest, while he took the weight upon his own shoulders?
Cha. Yes, I've heard all about it; but whether it be true or not, you and the poet only know.
Merc. Quite true, I assure you, Charon: why should such clever men tell lies? So let's set to work upon Ossa first, as the poet and his verse recommend;
