“How foolish,” said Mrs. Sawyer, “to expect click beetles to be still!”
But Ruth was all curiosity.
“I’ve seen you before,” she said, going closer and touching one of the funny little fellows.
Suddenly it curled up its legs, dropped as if shot, then lay like one dead.
“Here, here!” called the elater. “No more of that! We know all about your tricks!”
“All right,” said the would-be dead one, and he gave a click, popped into the air several inches, and came down on his back.
“That won’t do at all,” he said, and, clicking and popping once more, he came down on his feet.
“There,” he added, “you need to have patience with click beetles. You ought to know that, friend elater, for you are one of us.”
“Well, I’m bigger, and not so foolish, and my children are not so harmful as yours. Think of being a parent of those dreadful wire worms! That is what you click beetles are, and you know the farmer hasn’t a worse enemy. Now we must get back to the main issue.”
“Back?” said Mrs. Sawyer. “Were we ever there to begin with? You can’t scare me,” she added, “no matter how hard you stare. You haven’t any more eyes than the rest of us. Those two spots are not real eyes, and you know it.”