“That Snapper always was a disagreeable fellow,” mused Hyla, with his eyes half shut. “There come those Whirligigs back. I wonder which one beat.”
“Pooh, how could a Whirligig beat?” scornfully asked a water-strider who had overheard the tree-toad. “They swim in circles, the foolish things.”
“That’s all you know about Whirligig racing,” cried the largest whirligig, who was swimming near. “We all win every race. But of course you can’t expect a common water-strider with only one pair of eyes to understand that.”
“One pair of eyes!” exclaimed Hyla. “Why, have you more eyes than the rest of us, Mr. Whirligig?”
“Certainly,” replied the beetle, proudly. “We are not given to boasting, but, since you ask, I will say that we Whirligigs have many remarkable traits. Our family name is Gyrinidæ.”
“Who cares for that?” shouted the angry water-strider, skating toward the whirligig with all his might. “Get out of the road, you beetle, or I will skate you down! Ugh, what a horrid perfume you use! How dare you, sir!” gasped the strider, as the whirligig swam away, leaving the poor strider gasping and sputtering on the other side of the pool.
“Keep your distance, then,” called the whirligig after him.
“He won’t bother me for a time,” laughed the beetle to the tree-toad. “You see I have the power to give off a milky fluid from my joints, and common water-folk object to the odour, but it is my only way to get on with these skaters.”
“But do you really mean,” asked the Hyla, “that you have more eyes than the rest of us?”
“I certainly do,” replied the beetle with dignity. “We Whirligigs have a second pair of eyes under our chins, which enable us to see to the bottom of the pool as we swim about, and most convenient we find them.”