





bubble gives them a buoy- 

 ancy which only their con- 

 tinued downward efforts can 

 overcome. It is only by cling- 

 ing with their long front 

 legs to the submerged plants 

 that they are able to remain be- 

 neath the surface. No amount 

 of soaking ever seems to wet 

 their polished armor. When they 

 emerge to take up their circling 

 dance, they are apparently as dry as the 

 labelled specimen in the cabinet. 



There is, of course, a certain limit 

 of temperature at which the whirligig 

 beetle draws the line in its winter 

 gambols, but I have never tested it with a 

 thermometer. I know that I have seen them 

 when my ears were tingling, and have paused 

 while skating to study their rapid circling, when 

 the black water at the edge of the ice was all atan- 

 gle with their ripples. At such a time, if we steal close 

 upon them, it is amusing to note the sudden "heels up 

 and heads down" with which the swarm dives to the 

 depths below. Nor can you surprise them so quickly 

 that they will forget their bubbles, even though they 

 spatter the water quite briskly and make an audible 

 clicking of their wings in their haste to be off. 



