“Sally,” he said when he entered the house, “I got some hen-food now that's bound to make them hens lay, sure.” She took the package and opened it. “For law's sake, Pap,” she said, “what kind o' hen-food is that? It's blue!” “Yes,” said Pap, looking at it closely, “it IS blue, ain't it? It's a mixture of my own. I ain't been raisin' hens off an' on fer forty year for nothin'. You got to study the hen, Sally, and think about her. Why don't a hen lay in cold weather? 'Cause the weather makes the hen cold. This will make her warm. You jist try it. Give 'em a spoonful apiece an' I reckon they'll lay. It don't look like much, but I bet you anything it'll make them hens lay.” “I don't believe it,” she snapped, “and I'll hold you to that bet, sure's my names Briggs.” But the next day she gave them the allotted portion. That evening when Pap Briggs knocked the ashes from his pipe and rose from his seat in Billings' store, he said, “Billings, have you got some mainly fresh eggs--eggs you kin recommend?” “Yes, I have,” said Billings, with a grin. “So your hen-food don't work, Pap?” Pap chuckled. “It's a-workin,” he said, “and you can give me a dozen o' them eggs. And, say, you need't tell Sally.” Billings laughed. “I'm on,” he said. Pap put the bag of eggs back of the cracker-box, and put three of them in his pocket. When he reached home he quietly slipped around the house and deposited the three eggs in three nests, and went it. The next morning Sally greeted him with a smile. “Eggs this mornin', Pap,” she said. “That hen-food did work like a charm. I got three eggs.” Pap ate without comment until he had finished the second egg. He felt that he could eat a dozen, after his long fast. “It do seem good to have eggs agin,” he said. That evening, and the next evening he deposited three eggs as before. On the third morning Sally said: “It's queer about them hens, Pap; they lay, but they don't cluck like a hen generally does when she lays an egg.” Pap hesitated for a moment. “It's sich cold weather,” he said, “I reckon that's why.” About a week later Sally said: “I do declare to gracious, Pap, them hens do puzzle me.” Pap moved uneasily in his seat. “The do puzzle me!” repeated Sally. “Here the are layin' right along as reg'lar as summer-time, and never cluckin' or lettin' on a bit, and the queerest thing is they jist lay three eggs every day. It don't seem natural!” That night Pap put four eggs in the nests. The next night he put in five, and the next night three, and the danger into which his wiles had fallen was averted. One morning Sally startled him by saying: “Pap, I can't make them hens out. Here they are a-layin' right along, and all at once they quit layin' decent sized eggs like they ought, and begin layin' little mean things no better than banty eggs.” Pap scratched his head.