"Don't be obstinate," said Silly Gillie, "or we'll make it two years."
"Hand me the rope," said His Terics.
"Which one of us has it?" said the Big Gillie; "have you, brother, or you?"
"I don't know, have we?" said the other two.
"I don't know, I'm sure," said the big one, "maybe I have it." At that each one began to search in the others' pockets for the rope.
"Not in your pockets, you Gillies," said Her Terics. "He-he-he, how funny!" said His Terics, "not in your pockets."
"Well, it might have been, you never can tell," said Big Gillie. "I don't believe any of us has it; hold this," handing his coil of rope to his brother, "while I hunt in my hat." The other Gillies took the rope and stood looking at their brother while he took his hat off his head and tore the lining out.
"There—you two are holding it," said His Terics, almost beside himself. "You, Big Gillie, just handed it to your brother."
"So you did—what a coincidence!" said they.
"Why of course," said Big Gillie, "how foolish of you! I knew all the time that I didn't have it."