John Ames Mitchell

“ We shall have to eat more eggs, that’s all.”
“Eggs!” and his face became distorted. “I am so chock full of eggs now that everything looks yellow. I dream of them. I cackle in my sleep. My whole interior is egg. I breathe and think egg. I gag when I hear a hen.” ”

“ As Pats’s eyes fell on Solomon, he brightened up. “There’s that dog eats only the very things we are unable to spare. Why shouldn’t he eat eggs?”
“You might try and teach him.”
“Tell me,” said Pats, “why hens should lay nothing but eggs, always eggs? Why shouldn’t they lay pears, lemons, tomatoes,–things we really need?”
In silence the lady continued her work.
“Angel Cook?”
“Well?”
“What do you think?”
“I think, considering your years, that your conversation is surprising. Eggs are very nourishing, and we are lucky to have them. Didn’t I make you a nice omelette only a few days ago?” ”