The Sacred Beetle 



ing ball. A queer sort of assistant, who gets 

 a free ride so as to make sure of his share of 

 the victuals 1 



But a steep ascent heaves in sight and gives 

 him a fine part to play. He takes the lead 

 now, holding up the heavy mass with his 

 toothed arms, while his mate seeks a pur- 

 chase in order to hoist the load a little higher. 

 In this way, by a combination of well-directed 

 efforts, the Beetle above gripping, the one 

 below pushing, I have seen a couple mount 

 hills which would have been too much for a 

 single porter, however persevering. But in 

 times of difficulty not all show the same zeal: 

 there are some who, on awkward slopes 

 where their assistance is most needed, seem 

 blissfully unaware of the trouble. While the 

 unhappy Sisyphus exhausts himself In at- 

 tempts to get over the bad part, the other 

 quietly leaves him to it: imbedded in the 

 ball, he rolls down with it if it comes to grief 

 and is hoisted up with it when they start 

 afresh. 



I have often tried the following experiment 

 on the two partners in order to judge their 

 inventive faculties when placed in a serious 

 predicament. Suppose them to be on level 

 ground, number two seated motionless on the 

 ball, number one busy pushing. Without 



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