'll do."

"What?" asked the ever-ready Willy.

"Pour some ice water over 'em. That'll cool 'em nicely."

They travelled up the cellar stairs to the "cooler," which stood in the
hall.

"Wish we had a pitcher," said Janet. "You take the tum'ler, and I'll get
a dipper."

It required several journeys to and fro to sufficiently cool the eggs,
according to their way of thinking, but at last it was accomplished,
with much dripping of water and splashing of clean clothes.

The water-cooler was left empty, and the incubator was in a state of
dampness alarming to behold.

"There; I guess it's cool enough now!" said Janet, when the last trip
had been taken.

Alas, the mercury, which should have remained at 103 deg., had dropped
quietly down to 70 deg..

"I'd like to see what's in those eggs," said Willy, meditatively. "D'yer
s'pose they're chickies yet?"

"I guess so. I'd like to see, too. I'll tell you what, Willy? Let's take
one, and carry it off and see."

"All right. I'll be the one to take it. What'll Jack say?"

"He won't mind. Just one egg, and he has such a lot. And we've been
helping him lots this afternoon, cooling 'em off so nicely. But I'll be
the one to take it."

"No, me!"

"Let's both do it," said Janet, for once anxious to avoid a quarrel. "I
speak for that big one over there," and she abstracted one from the
"thermometer row," the row that was most important and precious in the
eyes of the owner of the machine.

"And I'll take dis one. It's awful heavy, and I guess de dear little
chicken'll he glad to get out and have some nice fresh air."

"Let's go down behind the carriage-house and look at 'em."

They fastened the door of the incubator, and departed with their
treasures.

Half an hour later, Jack, having finished his work, came whistling into
the house. He would go down and have a look at the machine, and then
walk up the river-bank to meet Cynthia, whom he had seen as she paddled
off early in the afternoon.

His first glance at the thermometer gave him a shock--75 deg. it registered.
What had happened? He looked at the lamp which heated the chambers, and
found that it had been turned down very low. What could Martha have been
thinking of, when he told her it was so important to keep up the
temperature this last day or so? The day after to-morrow he expected the
hatching to begin, and he had closed the door of the incubator that
morning. It was not to be opened again until the chicks w