Within the barrel was suspended a large, deep pan, resting on three iron cleats. This pan was partly filled with hot water, and floating on the water was another pan—a shallow one—which contained a layer of sand an inch deep. Over this was spread a piece of linen cloth, and in the cloth thirty-six large Brahma eggs lay closely packed. In the center stood a neat thermometer.
THE INCUBATOR.
“You have made your arrangements very neatly, August,” said mamma. “Of course I do not understand them exactly.”
“Well, you see, mamma, this shallow pan gets its heat from the water beneath it. I put that in hot, and keep it just right with this lamp.”
Saying which, he knelt in front of the barrel, and opened a neat little door, fitted with a brass knob and hinges.
Stooping down and looking in, his mother saw on a tall flower-pot, which stood upside down, a naptha safety-lamp sending forth a small, steady flame.
“That keeps the temperature about equable;” said August, “but I have another lamp, larger than this, to use in case my incubator grows too cool.”
“When did you set them?” asked mamma.