"The ostrich had been sitting on the ones in the middle. She expected to hatch just fourteen birds. She had not sat on the outer eggs at all, and there they were, entirely fresh and good to eat. She was saving them as food for the babies. She meant to break them, one after another, and give them to her chickens as fast as they should come out of the shell.
"It would be just as much food as the fourteen little ones would need, before they were old enough to go abroad with her and pick up their living in the desert. How do you suppose the ostrich knew this? She had hardly any brain, a very stupid bird indeed. It must have been taught her directly from Heaven.
"Well, you see now that the travellers did not starve. For a meal they broke one of these eggs into a bowl, beat it well, and mixed with it a little flour, pepper, and salt, and fried it in a pan. It served very well instead of bread with their tea and coffee, and when they arrived at their station they had two or three eggs to spare."
"Is that all?" asked Preston, as his father paused and offered a piece of orange to Ethel. "It was almost as good as the ravens, wasn't it?"
"I want to ask one question," said Julia. "How large is an ostrich egg?"
"It weighs perhaps three pounds, and is almost as large around the middle as Ethel's waist."
"Well, I'm glad those people didn't starve," remarked Flaxie, "I was afraid one while they would."
I have introduced this true story here, partly for its own sake, and partly to give you a picture of one of the delightful Sunday afternoons at Dr. Gray's. If I had time I would like to tell you of the strong efforts which Flaxie made from this very day to overcome the bad habit of letting her thoughts wander in church. But this book is so small, and there are yet so many events waiting to be described, that I must now hasten on to something else.
In April Miss Pike went home, carrying with her the hearts of all the Grays, both young and old. The whole family insisted so strongly upon her coming back the next winter that she said,—
"Thank you; perhaps I may come, for I have been very happy at Laurel Grove, and love every one of you dearly. But," she added, smiling, "you forget that you may not be here next winter. If Dr. Gray should be elected to Congress, won't you all go to Washington?"