Early in the second day of incubation, the little white line begins to get thicker on the end where the head is going to be. The brain and spinal cord appear first; later in the day there is the first sign of eyes and ears. At about the same time, the heart begins to form, and the minute blood vessels to grow out into the yolk like the first roots of a tiny plant. Before the end of the second day, the heart has begun to beat, and the blood vessels have begun to absorb the yolk to feed the growing chick. The yolk, in its turn, feeds on the white; for as everybody knows, the yolk and the white of an egg are stored up food, on which the little bird can live and grow until it is old enough to get out of the egg and shift for itself.

At the beginning of the third day, or a few hours before, the chick, which has been lying on the yolk face down (only it hasn’t any face yet), turns over on its left side. It is getting to be a big bird now, a quarter of an inch long and as thick as a good sized pin. Next, the brain grows rapidly; and so do the eyes, though these are not so large as the eyes of the finest needles. Now too, the nerves begin to form; also the lungs, the stomach, liver, and other organs of digestion; and there are beginnings of a tail, though without feathers.

During the fourth day, there are signs of a mouth. Legs and wings, looking just alike, begin to bud out from the body. Another day, and one can tell which is which; while now there appear beginnings of the skull and of the place where the back bone is going to be. Meantime, the little bird has become more than a half-inch long—though it does not yet look the least bit like a bird, but more like a large “?” mark. There is still no front to the body, and the heart, beating merrily away, hangs out in the yolk.

With the second week, the little chicken does begin to look something like a real bird. The bones begin to harden; while on the tip of what has been just an ordinary nose appears a speck of chalk, which will by and by harden into a bill. The claws begin to grow; and there are signs of feathers, each one still enclosed in the little transparent sac in which it forms.

At the end of two weeks, the white of the egg is all used up; and the little bird, which has been lying crosswise of the egg, now turns to bring its head toward the broad end. The yolk, too, is getting small; and on the nineteenth day, the chick pulls the last remnant into its little tummy, and begins to close over the hole. At about the same time also, he pecks through into the large air space which one sees in the broad end of an egg, when he eats it, hard-boiled, at a picnic. For a week or more, he has been breathing by means of a sort of gill, much like that of a fish, only that instead of being on the side of the head like a fish’s it grows out from the middle of the stomach on a long stalk and spreads over the inside of the shell. So the chick breathes through the shell, which is full of minute holes almost too small to be seen. But after the last bit of yolk has been taken in, this gill shrivels up and drops off, and the chick breathes with its lungs like the rest of us.

At the end of three weeks, there is nothing left of the egg but the shell and a tea-spoonful of water. The chick, which began life the size of a pin head, now fills the shell jam full, with only just room enough to peck the hole that lets him out. On the twenty-first day of his imprisonment, out he comes.

[How the Chicken Gets Inside the Egg]

II
Some Other Sorts of Eggs