re you?" I demanded, sharply.

"Oh, I'm just a walkin' delegate," he replied, with a sneer. "There's
a strike in New York and I come over here to tie this here exposition
up. See?"

"You mean to say you won't let these men finish their work?" I asked,
thunderstruck.

"That's about it, young man," he said, coolly.

Furious, I glanced at my watch, then at the thermometers, which now
registered only 75 deg.. Already I could hear the first-comers of the
audience arriving in the body of the hall. Already a stage-hand was
turning up the footlights and dragging chairs and tables hither and
thither.

"What will you take to stay and attend to those steam-pipes?" I
demanded, desperately.

"It can't be done nohow," observed the man in the silk hat. "That New
York strike is good for a month yet." Then, turning to the workmen, he
nodded and, to my horror, the whole gang filed out after him, turning
deaf ears to my entreaties and threats.

There was a deathly silence, then Sir Peter exploded into a vivid
shower of words. The Countess, pale as a ghost, gave me a
heart-breaking look. The Crown-Prince wept.

"Great Heaven!" I cried; "the thermometers have fallen to 70 deg.!"

The King of Finland sat down on a chair and pressed his hands over his
eyes. Baron de Becasse ran round and round, uttering subdued and
plaintive screams; Sir Peter swore steadily.

"Gentlemen," I cried, desperately, "we must save those eggs! They are
on the very eve of hatching! Who will volunteer?"

"To do what?" moaned the Crown-Prince.

"I'll show you," I exclaimed, running to the incubators and beckoning
to the Baron to aid me.

In a moment we had rolled out the great egg, made a nest on the stage
floor with the bales of cotton-wool, and placed the egg in it. One
after another we rolled out the remaining eggs, building for each its
nest of cotton; and at last the five enormous eggs lay there in a row
behind the green curtain.

"Now," said I, excitedly, to the King, "you must get up on that egg
and try to keep it warm."

The King began to protest, but I would take no denial, and presently
his Majesty was perched up on the great egg, gazing foolishly about at
the others, who were now all climbing up on their allotted eggs.

"Great Heaven!" muttered the King, as Sir Peter settled down
comfortably on his egg, "I am willing to give life and fortune for the
sake of science, but I can't bear to hatch out eggs like a bird!"

The Crown-Prince was