The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1907-02-15

MR.. BlRDSALL's EXPERIENCE
WITH "WHlRLED EGGS"
Seemingly He Had Not Sufficient Elk
pertness, and in His Wrath He Ex-
claimed Almost as David in
His Haste.


The last of the five children had been
put TO bed, the last request for
drink of water had been silenced, and
Mrs. Birdsall had come into the sit
ting room to sink down into chair
with little tired sigh TO take up the
darning of the children's stockings.
And now naught was heard save the
crackle of Mr.. Birdsalls paper as he
adjusted his feet into a more comfort
able position on the seat of another
chair. Suddenly he took his feet
down, showed his spectacles up fur
ther on his nose, and cleared his
throat
"Ann, did you ever eat any whirled
eggs?" he queried.
"Whirled eggs?" repeated Mrs. Bird
sail. mo, never did"
Listen here, then" said Mr.. Bird
sail. He cleared his throat again and
began to read
There is a Turkish restaurant in
New York where one may eat pilaffs,
sherbets and saffron-colored goat
stew, but the oldest dish the menu
boasts is 'whirled eggs The impress
sive dish is prepared before the guest.
When it is ordered a cook enters the
dining room with a kind of sling in
his hand-a little pot attached to the
END Of leather cord. The man opens
the eggs, seasons them, and shuts
them up in the little pot. Then he
whirls the pot at the end of its cord
around his head at inconceivable
speed Round and round it spins. It's
outlines become vague. 1t seems to
smoke little.
Suddenly the man opens it and
sets the eggs before the guest. They
are beautifully scrambled and quite
hot The heat of their motion through
the air is what has cooked them.
""Thus,' exclaims the Turkish host,
the eastern shepherds cook their
eggs, whirling them in sling like
that wherewith David overcame the
giant of Gath. p"
The next night Mr. Birdsall APP
peared at his home with a bundle
under his arm.
Henry, what are you fixing to do?"
exclaimed Mrs. Birdsall
"Do?" repeated Mr.. Birdsall, I'm
going to whirl some eggs, that's what
I'm going to do. No more of your
fried eggs, and your poached eggs,
and your boiled eggs for me. I'm go
ing to have EN- whirled."
Mrs. Birdsall knew better than to
interpose any objections, and went
quietly on with her preparations for
dinner while Mr. Birdsall was un-
wrapping his package.
In a few minutes he entered the
dining room, swinging in his hand a
pair of thongs, from which was sus
pended a small closed pot which bore
some resemblance both to a censor
and a sling.
Gimme some eggs now" he or
0ered, as he broke into a cheerful
whistle. Mrs Birdsall brought three
eggs and Mr. Birdsall looked almost
gay as he broke them into the small
pot.
Il wasn't any SLOUGH with a sling
in my boyhood days" he observed
cheerfu!ly as he gathered up the
thongs in his hand, "and | have an
idea that | can show a thing or two
about whirling to Turks or any other
dagoes. Here-move this table out
of my way and gimme plenty of room.
Keep the children back there, and
don't come inside the door yourself
while | am whirling 1t may take me
a moment or two TO get the right
swing again"
Mr.. Birdsall fitted the cover on the
top of the pot, grasped the thongs,
and slowly began to whirl the APP
paratus. Gradually he lifted his hand
and put more power into his wrist
till he had attained considerable
speed. Round and round sped the pot,
the thongs giving out a low, humming
sound, which gradually became higher
and higher as the speed increased.
Mr.. Birdsall stuck manfully at his
task till the revolving pot became a
circular blur above his head and the
drops of Precipitation trickled down
his forehead.
Suddenly there was a loud pop.
Mrs. Birdsall entered the room shrek
ing. The top of the pot crashed
through the dining room window The
body of the pot veered around and
landed, with a resounding whack on
the back of Mr.. Birdsall's neck. One
of the thongs had evidently broken
Mr. Birdsall dropped his apparatus
and stared in dazed fashion at his
wife, who was removing a sticky, vel
low mass from her face with her
apron. On a level with his head, the
four walls of the room were decorated
with a broad, spattered yellow band
from which little yellow drops were
slowly trickling down the lowered
wallpaper. The back Of Mr.. Birdsall's
neck was streaming raw yellow egg
and raw egg was spattered freely over
the carpeted floor
Mr.. Birdsall stood speechless and
aghast for a moment, and seemed un
able to find words. His wife gazed al
him with frightened eyes. Then Mr.
Birdsall's countenance became suf
fused with rage