"We wud get a holiday that day," she added brightly.
"Ah!" I said, "that settles it, Jan. Leave me to die in peace. Let me see—this is Tuesday; if I die now that will mean Saturday for the funeral. That's no good. What do you say to my putting off the evil day till Friday? That will mean a holiday on Tuesday."
"But ye canna dee when ye want to!" she laughed.
"I can easily borrow some of Mrs. Thomson's rat poison."
"Syne ye wud be committin' sooicide," cried Annie, "and they wud bury ye at nicht, and we wudna get oor holiday."
"Ah! Annie! You've raised a difficulty. I hear Jim whistling outside. Bring him in and we'll see if he can solve the problem."
They brought Jim to my bedside. I explained the difficulty, and Jim scratched his head.
"If ye was murdered they wudna bury ye at nicht," he said after some deliberation.
"A brilliant idea, Jim, but who is to murder me?"