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My father seemed to his visitor to be beside himself at theduplicity of Christopher Columbus. He muttered and swore. Hedeclared it was a wrong to teach children that Christopher Columbuswas a great man when, after all, he cheated at the critical moment. He had declared he would make an egg stand on end and then when hisbluff had been called he had done a trick. Still grumbling atColumbus, father took an egg from the basket on the counter and beganto walk up and down. He rolled the egg between the palms of hishands. He smiled genially. He began to mumble words regarding theeffect to be produced on an egg by the electricity that comes out ofthe human body. He declared that without breaking its shell and byvirtue of rolling it back and forth in his hands he could stand theegg on its end. He explained that the warmth of his hands and thegentle rolling movement he gave the egg created a new center ofgravity, and Joe Kane was mildly interested.”I have handledthousands of eggs,” father said.”No one knows more about eggs than Ido.”

He stood the egg on the counter and it fell on its side. Hetried the trick again and again, each time rolling the egg between thepalms of his hands and saying the words regarding the wonders ofelectricity and the laws of gravity. When after a half hour’s efforthe did succeed in making the egg stand for a moment he looked up tofind that his visitor was no longer watching. By the time he hadsucceeded in calling Joe Kane’s attention to the success of his effortthe egg had again rolled over and lay on its side.

Afire with the showman’s passion and at the same time a gooddeal disconcerted by the failure of his first effort, father now tookthe bottles containing the poultry monstrosities down from their placeon the shelf and began to show them to his visitor.”How would youlike to have seven legs and two heads like this fellow?” he asked,exhibiting the most remarkable of his treasures. A cheerful smileplayed over his face. He reached over the counter and tried to slapJoe Kane on the shoulder as he had seen men do in Ben Head’s saloonwhen he was a young farm-hand and drove to town on Saturday evenings. His visitor was made a little ill by the sight of the body of theterribly deformed bird floating in the alcohol in the bottle and gotup to go. Coming from behind the counter, father took hold of theyoung man’s arm and led him back to his seat. He grew a little angryand for a moment had to turn his face away and force himself tosmile. Then he put the bottles back on the shelf. In an outburst ofgenerosity he fairly compelled Joe Kane to have a fresh cup of coffeeand another cigar at his expense. Then he took a pan and filling itwith vinegar, taken from a jug that sat beneath the counter, hedeclared himself about to do a new trick.”I will heat this egg inthis pan of vinegar,” he said.”Then I will put it through the neckof a bottle without breaking the shell. When the egg is inside thebottle it will resume its normal shape and the shell will become hardagain. Then I will give the bottle with the egg in it to you. Youcan take it about with you wherever you go. People will want to knowhow you got the egg in the bottle. Don’t tell them. Keep themguessing. That is the way to have fun with this trick.”

Father grinned and winked at his visitor. Joe Kane decided that the man who confronted him was mildly insane but harmless. Hedrank the cup of coffee that had been given him and began to read hispaper again. When the egg had been heated in vinegar father carriedit on a spoon to the counter and going into a back room got an emptybottle. He was angry because his visitor did not watch him as hebegan to do his trick, but nevertheless went cheerfully to work. Foran hour he struggled, trying to get the egg to go through the neck ofthe bottle. He put the pan of vinegar back on the stove, intending toreheat the egg, then picked it up and burned his fingers. After asecond bath in the hot vinegar the shell of the egg had been softeneda little but not enough for his purpose. He worked and worked and aspirit of desperate determination took possession of him. When he thought that at last the trick was about to beconsummated the delayed train came in at the station and Joe Kanestarted to go nonchalantly out at the door. Father made a lastdesperate effort to conquer the egg and make it do the thing that wouldestablish his reputation as one who knew how to entertain guests whocame into his restaurant. He worried the egg. He attempted to besomewhat rough with it. He swore and the sweat stood out on hisforehead. The egg broke under his hand. When the contents spurtedover his clothes, Joe Kane, who had stopped at the door, turned and laughed.

A roar of anger rose from my father’s throat. He danced and shouted a string of inarticulate words. Grabbing another egg from thebasket on the counter, he threw it, just missing the head of the youngman as he dodged through the door and escaped.

Father came upstairs to mother and me with an egg in his hand. I do not know what he intended to do. I imagine he had some idea ofdestroying it, of destroying all eggs, and that he intended to letmother and me see him begin. When, however, he got into the presenceof mother something happened to him. He laid the egg gently on thetable and dropped on his knees by the bed as I have already explained. He later decided to close the restaurant for the night and to comeupstairs and get into bed. When he did so he blew out the light andafter much muttered conversation both he and mother went to sleep. Isuppose I went to sleep also, but my sleep was troubled. I awoke atdawn and for a long time looked at the egg that lay on the table. Iwondered why eggs had to be and why from the egg came the hen whoagain laid the egg. The question got into my blood. It has stayedthere, I imagine, because I am the son of my father. At any rate, theproblem remains unsolved in my mind. And that, I conclude, is butanother evidence of the complete and final triumph of the egg—atleast as far as my family is concerned.