For the second time in as many days, he lay awake in his bed, waiting for morning and thinking about the errand he did not want to run. His knapsack lay just inside the front door, the two precious eggs wrapped and hidden deep within. The villagers had heard about the second golden egg. They had visited the Bauer farm in a steady stream all evening, trying in turns to cajole Oma, or argue, or threaten her, into handing over the eggs. But Oma would have none of it. She cajoled and argued and threatened right back. Still, they tried. The mayor argued that things had changed in the short time since his first visit. It was no small feat for a hen to lay two eggs in one day, not to mention two such remarkable eggs. With a little luck, every family in Brixen might have their own egg before long. What could it hurt to wait, and return Not-Hildy to her owner in a week or so? “We needn’t tell him what his hen’s been doing,” the mayor added with a knowing wink. “He’ll never be the wiser.”
