roup of Scarabaeus to which they belong. Two species are
particularly familiar, one of a lustrous bronzy hue, with a very rounded
track, usually found at work on the country highway in the track of the
horse, and the other, the true typical tumble-bug, a flat-backed,
jet-black lustrous species which we naturally associate with the
barn-yard and cow-pasture. The latter may be taken as an illustrative
example of his class, and his ways are identical with that of his
ancient sacred congener and present inhabitant of Egypt.

[Illustration: MR. AND MRS. TUMBLE-BUG ROLLING THE BALL.]

When we first see them they are generally manipulating the ball--a small
mass of manure in which an egg has been laid, and which by rolling in
the dust has now become round and firmly incrusted and smooth. Let us
follow the couple in their apparently aimless though no less expeditious
and vehement labors. They have now brought their globular charge through
the grassy stubble, and have reached a clear spot of earth with
scattered weeds. Of course we all know from the books that their
intention is to find a suitable spot in which to bury this ball, and
such being the case, with what astonishing stupidity do they urge on
that labor! Here certainly is just the right spot for you, Mrs.
Tumble-bug! Stop rolling and dig! But no, she will not listen to reason.
She mounts the top of the ball, and, creeping far out upon it, pulls it
over forward with her back feet, while Mr. Tumble-bug helps her in a
most singular fashion. Does he stand up on his hind legs on the opposite
side, and push with his powerful front feet? Oh no; he stands on his
head, and pushes with his hind legs. As he pushes, and as the ball rolls
merrily on, Mrs. Tumble-bug is continually rolled around with it, and
must needs climb backwards at a lively rate to keep her place. A foot or
two is thus travelled without special incident, when a slight trouble
occurs. The ball has struck an obstacle which neither Mrs. Tumble-bug's
pull nor Mr. Tumble-bug's push can overcome. Then follow an apparent
council and interchange of Tumble-bug talk, until at length both put
their shovel-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. Sh