58 EYE SPY 
shaped heads together beneath the sphere, and 
over it goes among the weeds. It is soon out 
again upon the open. Now, Mrs. Tumble - bug, 
everything is plain-sailing for you ; here is a long 
down grade over the smooth clean dirt! Why, 
the ball would roll down itself if you would only 
let it ; but, no, she will not let it. She pauses, and 
the ball rests, and both beetles now creep about, 
shovelling up the dirt here and there with their 
very queer little flat heads. Ah, perhaps they are 
going to start that hole which all the books tell us 
about. But no ; the place is evidently not quite 
satisfactory, both of them seem so to conclude, 
like two souls with but a single thought. Mrs. T. 
is up on the bridge in a jiffy, and Mr. T. takes his 
place at the helm ; and now what an easy time 
they will have of it down this little slope ; but, no, 
again ; tumble - bugs don't seem to care for an 
easy time. A hundred times on their travels will 
they pass the very best possible spot for that bur- 
row, a hundred times will they persist in guiding 
that little world of theirs over an obstruction, 
when a clear path lies an inch to the right or left 
of them. And here, when their labors might be 
so easily lightened by a downward grade, what do 
they do ? they deliberately turn the ball about 
and hustle it along up hill, and that, too, over dirt 
that is not half as promising. Tip they go! 
Mrs. T. now seems to have the best of it, and I 
