“And out of the funniest nest,” said Tess, quite as excited.
Agnes and Ruth looked into the handkerchief with some disbelief. They saw a dozen and a half rather dirty looking eggs; at least, they were of a brownish-gray color. The shells looked leathery and not like the shells of hens’ eggs.
“Goodness!” murmured Ruth.
“You call those eggs?” demanded Agnes doubtfully.
“And all out of one nest,” cried Tess delightedly.
“Fancy!” said Ruth, much puzzled.
“I hope you know what you are doing, Neale O’Neil,” said Agnes. “Don’t poison us with some strange fruit.”
“So they look like fruit to you, do they?” snorted Neale.
“I’ll take a chance,” said Luke, grinning, “if there is a yolk and a white to them.”
“Put on the fry-pan with some oil in it. Get me the pepper and salt. The chef proposes to turn out some fried eggs to beat the band! How do you like ’em—sunny-side up, or turned over? State your preference, ladies and gentlemen.”