He held a large
handkerchief in his hand.
"This is a handkerchief," he announced. "If anyone'd like to feel it
to see if it's a real one, they can. Now I want a shilling," he looked
round expectantly, but no one moved, "or a penny would do," he said,
with a slightly disgusted air. Robert threw one across the room.
"Well, I put the penny into the handkerchief. You can see me do it,
can't you? If anyone wants to come an' feel the penny is in the
handkerchief, they can. Well," he turned his back on them and took
something out of his pocket. After a few contortions he turned round
again, holding the handkerchief tightly. "Now, you look close,"--he
went over to them--"an' you'll see the shil--I mean, penny," he looked
scornfully at Robert, "has changed to an egg. It's a real egg. If
anyone thinks it isn't a real egg----"
But it _was_ a real egg. It confirmed his statement by giving a
resounding crack and sending a shining stream partly on to the carpet
and partly on to Aunt Evangeline's black silk knee. A storm of
reproaches burst out.
"First that horrible insect," almost wept Aunt Evangeline, "and then
this messy stuff all over me. It's a good thing I don't live here. One
day a year is enough.... My nerves!..."
"Dear, dear!" said Aunt Jane.
"Fancy taking a new-laid _egg_ for that," said Ethel severely.
William was pale and indignant.
"Well, I did jus' what the book said to do. Look at it.
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