60 EYE SPY 



occasionally the tumble-ball thus started, and out 

 of the control of her spouse at the rear, may roll 

 over and over for a long distance, but never alone. 

 No amount of demoralization of this sort ever 

 surprises her into losing her grip on her precious 

 globular bundle. When at last it fetches up 

 against a stone or stick, and she assures herself 

 that she and her charge are safe and sound, no 

 doubt she immediately mounts to its crest to sig- 

 nal the lone Mr. T. afar off, who is quickly back 

 of her again, and both are promptly off on a fresh 

 journey. And so they keep it up, apparently for 

 sport, perhaps for an hour. 



At length, when they have played long enough 

 — for there is no other reason apparent to homo 

 sapiens — they decide to plant their big, dirty pel- 

 let. The place which they have chosen is not 

 half as promising as many they have passed, but 

 that doesn't seem to matter. Mrs. T. has said, 

 " It shall go here," and that ends it. 



Then follows a most singular exhibition of ex- 

 cavation and burial. The ball is now resting qui- 

 etly on the dirt, and the two beetles are appar- 

 ently rummaging around beneath it, trying the 

 ground with the sharp edge of their shovel-shaped 

 faces. And now, to avoid confusion, we will dis- 

 miss Mr. T., and confine our observation strictly 

 to the female, who usually (in my experience) con- 

 ducts the rest of the work alone. 



