“A candle! What’s that for?” asked Janet.
“I’m goin’ to candle ebery aig afore I puts it in dis nest All dem aigs is promised dat dey is strickly fresh, yistidy, but I aint goin’ to let you take any moh chances.”
When Janet returned with the eggs and the candle, Rachel said: “Did you eber see dat tiny speck what’s set in the yolk of most eggs?”
“Does it look like a dark drop of blood?” queried Janet.
“Yeh, da’s whad it looks like! Well, dat is all dere is to an aig foh hatchin’ pu’poses. Some eggs ain’t got no spot and dey won’t hatch chicks. I’ll candle the aigs we set to make sure dey is all right.”
“What would you call that speck?” asked Janet, more surprised at the ways of Nature than she could express.
“Dat’s its life-germ. Widdout dat no aig has life, dey says. But I ain’t no follower of all dem germ-fads, myself.”
Rachel selected fifteen good eggs and placed them in the straw, then she coaxed the hen back upon the nest and left her. As she left the chicken-house she said to Janet: “Don’t you go and han’le dem aigs, atall’. Ef you does, dat hen will get mad and stop hatchin’. Jus’ let hens mind their own bu’ness’ cuz they knows it better’n us.”
“I never knew the hen would mind my looking for the pecks in the shell.”
“Well, she do! Nature does that peckin’, on time, and you ner dat ole hen can do it fer Nature.”