Illustrated Science for Boys and Girls Part 7

"Must the eggs be kept at that temperature all the time?"

"No, only through the first week. The second it is a little less and the third still less."

"There is the luncheon-bell, dear; we must go down or the children will be trooping up here. I hope, my boy, that you will succeed."

"If I don't I shall try again," said August. Then, taking a final look to see that the thermometer and lamp were all right, he locked the room and they went down.

He paid several visits to the attic during the day and evening, finding on each occasion that all worked well and steadily. Before going to bed he refilled the lamp, so the supply of naptha shouldn't be exhausted; then he went to sleep and dreamed all night of eggs and chickens.

In the morning he was up and at his incubator before any one else was stirring. The thermometer indicated that the eggs were a trifle cool, so he turned up the wick of the lamp. Before going to church he turned the eggs. This he did twice daily, being careful not to jar them. The incubator worked well all day and all night.

The next day was Monday and he had his school duties to attend to. He left everything in good order, took the attic key to his mother, and went off to school full of confidence.

Alas! When mamma went up at ten o'clock, she could scarcely see across the room. Everything was black with soot. The naptha lamp was smoking fiercely.

The first thing was to get the window open, and put out the lamp. Then mamma looked at the eggs. Alas, again! There they lay covered with fine black soot. She took up one and tried to wipe it, but succeeded only in making a smirch which she could not wipe off. She knew then that the eggs were spoiled.

In the midst of it all August came in from school having been dismissed early. Poor August! He could scarcely keep the tears back.

"Well, August," said his mamma very practically, "I don't think a naptha lamp just the thing. They are very apt to smoke, and they are very inflammable."

"Yes," said August, trying to be cheerful. "Failure the first! I shall try it again. Grandma will give me some more eggs. I've only lost three days."

"And _I_ will go to town this afternoon," said his mother, "and see if I cannot find a lamp which will be more reliable."

There was no school that afternoon, so August cleaned the room, and supplied the incubator with fresh eggs, greatly encouraged by his mother's sympathy and interest.

The other children were curious enough to know what was going on in the attic; but they could get no information.

Toward evening Mrs. Grant returned from town, bringing for her little boy a large tin lamp which would burn kerosene. He lighted it and adjusted the wick to just the right height. Then it was placed within the barrel to warm the second setting of eggs.

Day after day August and his mother watched and tended them. Everything progressed finely.

On the next Monday the eggs, having been in the incubator a week, were far enough advanced to be tested. At a south window there hung a heavy green Holland curtain. In this mamma allowed August to cut a hole, a little smaller than an egg, and she herself staid to a.s.sist him.

When all was ready, she handed August the eggs one by one. One by one he held them to the aperture. The first seemed quite transparent. In vain August turned and turned it--there was nothing to be seen but the yolk floating at the top. With a sigh he laid that aside and took up another.

"O, mamma, look!" he cried excitedly.

Mrs. Grant examined it with great interest. Not only could she distinctly see the dark form of a little chick, particularly the head with its immense eye, but bright blood-veins were also plainly defined, branching out in all directions from the body. Another and still another of the eggs looked like this one. August was greatly excited.

"They are lively enough!" he said. "See, mamma, this one moves, and this!"

Then came one that was dark and shaky. "Addled," p.r.o.nounced August. After this a number more appeared as promising as the former ones.

Finally all were tested. They were pleased enough with the result. Three were clear--that meant there were no chickens within the sh.e.l.ls; one was addled; and thirty-two contained live chicks.

August was so wild over this discovery that his hands grew unsteady, and he unfortunately dropped two of the eggs and broke them. This left him but thirty likely to hatch; but these were all very promising.

"I am sure we will succeed now, mamma," cried August gaily.

"It looks like it, certainly," said mamma.

But alas for poor August's bright hopes! and alas for the expected chickens! Whether August was too confident and grew careless, or whether it was one of those unforeseen accidents that _will_ happen, will never be known; but this is certain, that the next morning when August went, later than usual, to look at his incubator, he found the thermometer had gone up to 110 and must have been at that temperature some time, for in egg after egg, which he opened in despair, was a poor little dead chick.

Even if a boy is fourteen years old, he cannot help crying sometimes over a great disappointment.

Poor August put out his lamp with sorrowful breath and some of his tears fell upon the hot chimney which hissed as if in mockery.

Then he locked himself in his own room, threw himself on the bed, refused his breakfast and gave way to his grief.

Tom, Katie and Robbie all tried to get at him, but without avail. Katie coaxed with loving words. Robbie murmured, "Poor Gussie!" Tom said "Never mind, old fellow, if your 'speriment has failed. Come and play ball."

August's reply was not very polite.

"My experiment hasn't failed, and that is all you know about it, Tom!"

But the word "fail" seemed to rouse him, to restore his courage; for presently unlocking the door and coming out, he said quietly to himself, "I shall just go down to Grandma's for some more eggs--that's what I shall do!"

Grandma was curious to know what he did with so many eggs; but she asked no questions. She had great respect for August and his 'speriments.

She only said, "This makes one hundred and eight eggs, child. Now, if I had set all these, and if they had all hatched, what a lot of little chickens I would have had!"

"Ah!" thought August. "If!--" And he drew a long sigh.

Mamma, meanwhile, had been up to the attic to look at the incubator, knowing nothing of what had happened. Great was her amazement to find the lamp out, a basin full of broken eggs and little dead chicks, and the incubator itself deserted and empty.

"Why, August!" she cried, as she met him in the door with a basket of fresh eggs. "What has happened, dear child?"

"Only failure number two;" he answered, trying to speak cheerfully, though even yet the tears lay high. "They got too hot in the night, mamma."

"Yet you are not quite discouraged?" said mamma.

August held out his basket with a smile.

So once more the incubator was set.

"We must take more pains this time," said mamma.

"Yes'm," answered August, "I'll try not to let any thing happen to these."

Things did work more smoothly this time. The temperature was kept about right, the eggs were tested successfully and without accident.

One week, two weeks, two weeks and a half, and then things happened again, things which came near being serious enough. It was Sat.u.r.day afternoon. August was going with the other children to a circus. He had turned the eggs carefully and sprinkled them lightly with warm water. He had admitted the children into his secret, and they were all in the room waiting for him.

"These eggs are a little cool," said August, putting one up to his cheek.

"I must leave them just right, I think I will fill the lamp and turn it up a little. Tommy, will you take the lamp out?"

Down on his knees Tommy went, and drew out the lamp which he set on the floor. Then, kneeling still above it, he blew hard, directly down the chimney.