“Your man is as hot as an oven, and he never leaves his bed—well, I'd make him hatch some eggs.”
She was struck dumb at the suggestion, thinking that Prosper could not possibly be in earnest. But he continued:
“I'd put five under one arm, and five under the other, the same day that I set a hen. They'd all come out at the same time; then I'd take your husband's chickens to the hen to bring up with her own. You'd rear a fine lot that way.”
“Could it be done?” asked the astonished old woman.
“Could it be done?” echoed the man. “Why not? Since eggs can be hatched in a warm box why shouldn't they be hatched in a warm bed?”
She was struck by this reasoning, and went away soothed and reflective.
A week later she entered Toine's room with her apron full of eggs, and said:
“I've just put the yellow hen on ten eggs. Here are ten for you; try not to break them.”
“What do you want?” asked the amazed Toine.
“I want you to hatch them, you lazy creature!” she answered.