Of golden eggs as ever fowl prolific
Tended, untired, unflitting.
Sound eggs and of good stock, there is no doubt of them.
"What will come out of them?
That question interests nor Partlet only;
No; while the speckled beauty
Sits in quiescent state, content though lonely,
The poultry-yard's prime duty
Filling her soul, how many minds are watching
That hopeful hatching!