"I've made nae mistak, for I lookit the almanac."
"But will ye no listen tae reason? Put yer heid oot an' see for yersel'."
Wullie put his heid oot. "Woel," he says, "there's nae mune, certainly; but ye surely widna hae me responsible for that. I go by the almanac; an' if it says there's to be a mune, it's a' one tae me whether there's nae mune or a million o' munes, not a lamp will I licht."
"That's quite richt, Wullie: nae doot ye maun hae some rule to go by—Gentlemen," I cries doon, "he has the best o' the argument: what am I tae dae noo?"
"Haul him oot the window," they cried up.
"Oh! if ye're goin' tae begin fechtin' I'll come doon," I replies, "and let some o' the rest o' ye up." But they cried, that I'd better jist settle it when I wis there, so I says, "Wullie, whit almanac d'ye go by? Is't Orr's, or the Belfast?"
"Here it's up on the mantlepiece, ye can see it for yersel';" and he took it doon, an' held it oot tae me, giein' me a cannle at the same time to read it by. One look, hooever, explained the hale affair. "Gracious guidness, Wullie," I cries, "this is last year's!"
"Eh! what! last year's?"
"It is that," says I.
"Mr Kaye," says Wullie, "don't say another word. Wait a minute, an' I'll put on my troosers, an' in hauf an oor every lamp'll be shinin' sae that ye wid think it wis a general illumination."