"Come up, then," said he. So Hercules clambered to the highest peak he could find, and Atlas, slowly bending, gradually and carefully let down the sky upon the head and shoulders of the hero. Then, heaving a deep roar of relief, he strode into the sea. It was surely the strangest plight in which a mortal ever found himself--standing on a mountain-peak, and, by the strength of his own shoulders, keeping the skies from falling. He was answerable for the safety of the whole world: the burden of the entire universe was laid upon the shoulders of one man. They were strong enough to bear it; but it seemed like an eternity before Atlas returned. A hundred times a minute Hercules felt as if he must let all go, whatever happened; indeed he was actually tempted to yield, for he was weary of these endless labors; and it was only for mankind's sake, and not for his own, that he held on through the agony of the crushing weight of the whole universe. But Atlas came at last, with three golden apples in his hand. "Here they are!" he roared. "And now, good-bye!" "What!" exclaimed Hercules. "Are you not coming back to your duty?" "Am I a fool?" asked the giant. "Not I. Keep the honor of holding up the skies yourself, since you are so strong and willing. Never again for me!" "At least, then," said Hercules, "let me place my lion's skin between my shoulders and the sky, so that the weight may be less painful to bear." Atlas could take no objection to that, so he put his own shoulders under the dome of heaven to let Hercules make himself as comfortable as the situation allowed. Hercules seized the chance, and let the whole weight of the sky fall upon the shoulders of Atlas once more. And there it still rests; and thus Atlas failed in trying to shift his own proper burden to another's shoulders. "Only _three_ apples!" exclaimed Eurystheus, when Hercules returned. "You can't have taken much trouble, to get so little. Go to Hades, and bring me Cerberus, the three-headed dog of Pluto!... He will never do that?" he thought to himself. "To reach Hades, one must die!" PART IX.--HIS TWELFTH LABOR: THE DESCENT INTO HADES. I daresay you have forgotten--for it is a long way back--the name of Admetus, that King of Pheræ in Thessaly, whom Apollo, when banished from heaven, served as a shepherd for nine years. Admetus did not know that it was a god whom he had to keep his sheep; but he was so good and kind a master that Apollo, revealing himself at the end of his exile, bade him name any boon he desired, and it should be granted. There is no such difficult question in the world to answer as that. Admetus answered, "Grant that I may never die."