Page:Wonder Book.djvu/211

 ‘Sure enough, that was a giant!’ repeated Sweet Fern, in an ecstasy at the precision of these measurements. ‘And how broad, I wonder, were the shoulders of Hercules?’

‘That is what I have never been able to find out,’ answered the student. ‘But I think they must have been a great deal broader than mine, or than your father’s, or than almost any shoulders which one sees nowadays.’

‘I wish,’ whispered Sweet Fern, with his mouth close to the student’s ear, ‘that you would tell me how big were some of the oak-trees that grew between the giant’s toes.’

‘They were bigger,’ said Eustace, ‘than the great chestnut-tree which stands beyond Captain Smith’s house.’

‘Eustace,’ remarked Mr. Pringle, after some deliberation, ‘I find it impossible to express such an opinion of this story as will be likely to gratify, in the smallest degree, your pride of authorship. Pray let me advise you never more to meddle with a classical myth. Your imagination is altogether Gothic, and will inevitably Gothicise everything that you touch. The effect is like bedaubing a marble statue with paint. This giant, now! How can you have ventured to thrust his huge, disproportioned mass among the seemly outlines of Grecian fable, the tendency of which is to reduce even the extravagant within limits, by its pervading elegance?’

‘I described the giant as he appeared to me,’ replied the student, rather piqued. ‘And, sir, if you would only bring your mind into such a relation with these fables as is necessary in order to remodel them, you would see at once that an old Greek had no more exclusive right to them than a modern Yankee has. They are the common property of the world, and of all time. The ancient poets