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 



