“I should like to know what those fellows are doing here,” said a bumble-bee beetle, making such a loud humming that Mrs. Sawyer declared she thought a real bumble bee was in their midst. “People who live in the water shouldn’t belong to our family, anyhow. I can’t imagine any one liking the water.”
“That’s because you are not a water beetle,” answered one of the whirligigs.
“Why, the water is the most sociable place in the world. Something lively happening all the time. Constant changes too. Those who are with us one moment are gone the next, but that is life on land as well as in the water for us insects. Dinner is always our first thought. Of course we water fellows are fitted for our life. We are put together more tightly than you land beetles, and we are boat-shaped besides. We use our hind legs for paddles, and we have wings with which we can leave the water if we wish. We whirligigs are sociable fellows, always a lot of us together, and such fun as we have dancing and whirling about in the water! We don’t often dive unless something is after us.”
“You must have very good times,” said Ruth, watching the shiny, bluish black little beetles with eager attention. Then she asked quite suddenly:
“Have you four eyes?”
“No, my dear,” answered the first speaker, “we have only two. They look like four, because they are divided into upper and lower halves. So you see we can look up and down at the same time, and, I tell you, insects need to step lively to keep out of our way. Good times? I should say we did have good times. Now to the surface to snatch bubbles of air with the tiny hairs on the tip of our tails, and then down again for a race or a game of tag with our friends. No, not all the water beetles are as frisky as we are. Some are—now what is that?”
The whirligig might well ask the question, for a sound like a tiny popgun had broken in upon his remarks, and the whole audience, including Ruth of course, was looking at a greenish blue beetle who had just come in, leaving a fine trail of smoke behind him. It was he who had made the queer noise, and he seemed quite disturbed by the sensation he was creating.
“Do excuse me,” he begged. “I really forgot I was among friends.”
“I should think so,” answered the elater, looking at him sternly. “A beetle who carries a gun should be careful about using it.”
“Well, I try to be careful, but accidents will happen.”