In a Sydney court recently a leading egg expert defied the ordinary layman to tell the difference between a new-laid egg and one that had been in cold-storage for eight months.
Consider the age of an egg; And how can the poultreymen know it? Its ulterior guise gives no hint to the wise, And there's nought in its manner to show it. For instance, this egg on my plate, Boiled for breakfast, at present in session, Its sits looking up at the world from its cup Absolutely devoid of expression. You cannot tell much from its face, Enigmatic, unlined by a wrinkle Engraven by care; it has never grown hair For the snows of the years to besprinkle. Compalint of blood-pressure there's none, Nor teeth for time's passing to plunder, But the bloom on its cheek, smooth, healthy and sleek, Shouts of vigorous youth. Yet -- I wonder! Our grocer has vowed it new-laid, And his manner was bland and compelling, (He said that before about eggs in his store) So, here goes! There's one method of telling: Be resolute, rtuhless and stern, Your knife with dexterity swinging, And without foolish fuss, just break the thing -- thus ... ? ? ! -- ! -- * * -- ? Excuse me! The telephone's ringing!
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2006|