The Two Easter Eggs.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 19, 12 May 1909, Page 53

The Two Easter Eggs.

“ Oh, Jessie ! ” cried little Trix, running in great excitement across the farmyard to where her elder sister stood. " Flo aud I have each got an Easter egg of our very own! My little blaek hen has just laid one under the laurel bushes on the lawn, and Flo has found one in the hayloft, with her yellow hen keeping guard over it ever so proudly ! Look, Jessie ! isn't this a nice egg ? ” and she held up her treasure to be admired. “ It’s a beauty, Trix. You must have it for your supper.” “Oh, no. Jessie! I couldn't have my little blaek hen's first egg just boiled for my supper as if it were a common everyday one ! I want to have it dyed, and keep it as long as ever 1 can ! I wish Blackie had laid it just a little sooner. Mother has finished all the dyeing for to-day. and I shall have to wait till Monday. I want it dyed with logwood chips, Jessie, because that will make it so dark —nearly black, like the little hen herself.” “And I want nr: i with coffeegrounds, because that d make it light brown —nearly yellow, like my hen,” said Flo, running up at this moment, and the sisters hastened towards the house to display the eggs to their mother. The latter was standing at the farm house door, speaking to two little fairhaired girls whom Flo and Trixie knew quite well by sight. They and their parents were in lodgings in the village, and their father, a clergyman, was a great invalid, brought thither for change of air. Little Muriel Lestrange and her sister sometimes came to the farm to buy new-laid eggs, and such had evidently been their errand this evening, for Trix eould hear her mother saying regretfully: " 1 should have been only too glad to let you have the eggs if I'd had any, but there isn’t an egg in the place. I’m afraid. You see. we have sold so many to-day, being Easter Eve: and this morn ing, unluckily, 1 had an accident with a pan full that I was dyeing, and had to use a second lot. Of course, we expect to have some more to-morrow, but that isn’t the same thing as having them tonight.” “ Father fancied he could enjoy a fresh egg for his supper to-night,” explained Muriel Lestrange. “ And it is so nice to get them here, warm from the nest. But of course, you cannot give us what you have not got ! Good evening, Mrs. Anstruther.” And the two dainty little figures were turning to go. but Trix. very hot and red, darted up to them, and addressed tho younger sister. Margaret Lestrange had taken great interest in a kitten that Trix had brought to the door for her to see one afternoon, and her sweet smile and gentle greeting had been one of Trix's pleasures ever since. " Will you take this egg, please ? ” she said eagerlv. “It is warm from the

Best—feel it ! And it is the first egg my little black henjtaa ever (aid ! "Oh. then you surely mjuid not like to sell it ? ” exclaimed Murrel and Margaret together. ‘•Not sell it,” said Trix. “No. It is an Easter egg. But won’t you take it. please ’ It was iny little black hen's present to nr*, and I should like it- to

be my present to you, if you will have it." “ It is very kind, indeed, of you." said Margaret, taking the egg in one little gloved hand, au< holding out the other to Trix. “Thank you very much " Trix looked round for Flo but Flo had run away at the first mention of

eggs, and gone to hide her treasure in the hay loft, lest her mother, if she knew of it, should ask her to give it up to the invalid. Poor Flo! She came afterwards to -Trix’* side as she was sitting on her stool by the fire in the dusk, thinking rather wistfully, it must be confessed. about the little black hen's Easter

egg. and hoping that Mr. Eestrange wtl enjoying‘it as much as it deserved to be enjoyed. Flo’s eyes were full of tears, and her face looked very miserable. “Oh, Trix!” she whispered, “you might colne with me to the hayloft and help me to seek my egg. I tniried it under the hay. and now 1 can't find it ag»»n.”

Trix caine at once, and did her best to help her sister, who groped w.’th feverish eagerness amongst the hay, half crying all the time. ■ -> ■ ’ “I don’t think it can be here, Flo," ehe said at last. But just at that moment Flo found it all too surely, for she stumbled and fell upon her knee, and there was a fatal crunch.

“Oh, Trix! I’ve knelt upon it. and crushed it all to bits! It’s no good to anybody now. Oh, dear, what sliall 1 do?’’

Flo sat down and wept. She could hot go and confide her troubles to her mother, for she felt how selfish and unkind she had been in hiding tire egg. So she had to be contented with the sympathy of Trix, who cuddled her and pitied her and nearly cried too. Perhaps it was no wonder that Trix when she went to bed that night, dreamed about eggs. She thought that she felt something under her pillow: and on looking to see what it was, found a beautiful golden egg there. As she gazed at it with wondering eyes, a soft voice whispered—

“This golden egg was a kindly thought, that lay in the warm nest of a loving heart, till a good deed was hatched from it."

And Trix saw the gold shell open, and a lovely fairy creep out, clad all in soft downy white. The fairy smiled, and there was a light on Trix’s pillow as if flu- sun were shining.

“I have power to grant yon one wish,"’ said the fairy. “Choose what you would like best.’’

“Oh, please,” said Trix, eagerly, “may Flo's yellow hen lay another Easter egg to-morrow? If Blackie lays one I will ask Flo to have it: but that wouldn’t be quite the same thing to bio as finding one of her own.”

As Trix spoke thus, she saw. to her great surprise, another golden egg lying close beside the first; and then sire woke.

Very early on Easter morning the two little sisters' were astir, and very eagerly they ran out to look for egos. Trix hunted in vain through the haunts of her little black hen. under the laurels on the lawn: but she was full of gladness when ehe heard an eager cry from Flo—

“Oh, Trix, Trix! My yellow hen has laid another! Such a fine big one!”

“I’m so glad,” said Trix. with all her heart: and to herself she added. “It wsts a real, true fairy, then! Not all a dream.”' —"Sunday Reading."’