The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1907-01-28
HARDLY A SUCCESS
.mR BlRDsALL's EXPERIENCE
WITH aWHIRLED EGes
Seemingly fie Had Not sufHcient Ex-
psrtnessr and in His Wrath He Ex-
claimed Almost as David IN
His Haste.


ting room TO sink down into a 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. Blrdsalrs paper as he
adjusted his feet into a more comfort
able position on the seat Of another
chair. Suddenly be took his feet
down. showed his spectaeles up fur.
ther on his nose. and cleared his
throat.
Ann, did you ever eat any whirled
eggs7" he Queried.
'Whirled eggs?" repeated Mrs. Bird
sail. NO. I never did"
Listen here, them 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 piIaffs.
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 il is ordered cook enters the
dining room with kind OF sling in
his hand--a little pot attached to the
enc 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 inconceivg5Ie
speed. Round aad round It spins. It's
outlines become vague. It seems to
smoke a 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 excIaims the Turkish host,
the eastern shepherds cook their
eggs. whirling them in sling like
that wherewith David cvercane tne
giant OF Gath"
The next night Mr. Birdsall ap-
peared at his home with bundle
under his arm.
Henry. what are you fixing to do?"
exclaimed Mrs. Birdsall
"Do?" repeated Mr.. Birdsall, "Pm
going to whirl some eggs. that's what
Fm 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 few minutes he entered the
dining room. swinging In his hand a
pair Of thongs. from which was sus-
pended small closed pot which bore
some resemblance both to a censer
and a sling.
Gimme some eggs now" he or
dered, as he broke into cheerful
whistle. Mrs. BirdsalI brought three
eggs and Mr.. Birdsall looked almost
gay as he broke them into the small
pot.
Il wasn't any slouch with a sling
In my boyhood days" he observed
cheerfully as he gathered up the
thongs in nis hand, land | have an
idea that I can show thing or two
about whirling to Turks or any other
1agoes. 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. It may take me
moment or two to get the right
swing again."
Mr.. BKdsall fitted the cover on the
top of the pot, grasped the thongs,
and slowly began to whirl the ap-
/ 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
circular blur above his head and the
! drops Of persplration trickled down
his forehead.
Suddenly there was loud pop.
Mrs. BirdsalI 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.. Birdsalls neck. One
of the thongs had evidently broken.
Mr. Birdpall dropped his apparatus
and stared in dazed fashion at his
wife. who was removing sticky, yel-
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 we're
slowly triekIing down the lowered
wallpaper The back Of Mr.. BlrdsaIl's
neck was streaming raw yellow egg
and raw egg was spattered freely over
the carpeted loor.
/ Mr.. Birdsall stood speechless and
Il aghast for a moment. and seemed un-
able to find words. His wife gazed at
him with frightened eyes. Then Mr.
Birdsall's eountenance became suf-
fused with rage.
"Ann," he bowled, "the fellow Who
wrote that yarn was an internal iiar!"
/