"Well, Mrs. Copley; tired?"—he began.
"I don't know which part of me's most tired," said the lady; "my eyes, or my head, or my feet."
"Did it pay, after all?"
"Pay! I wouldn't have missed it for a year's length of life! It went ahead of all I ever thought of or dreamt of. It was most like Aladdin's lamp—or what he saw, I mean, when he went down into fairyland. I declare, it was just as good."
"Only that you could not put things in your pockets. What would you have brought, Mrs. Copley, if it had been safe and allowable? The famous egg?"
"Mercy, no, Mr. St. Leger! I shouldn't have a minute's peace of my life, for fear I should lose it again."
"That's about how they say the first owner felt. They tell of him, that a lady once coaxed him to let her have the egg in her hand; and she kept it in her hand; and the prince forgot; and she drove back to Dresden with it."
"Where was he, the prince?"
"At some hunting castle, I believe. It was night before he found out his loss; and then he booted and spurred in hot haste and rode to Dresden in the middle of the night to fetch the egg from the lady again."
"What's the use of things that give folks so much trouble?" said Rupert.