The first nicht success micht ha' been an accident; the second aye tells the tale.
It's so wi' a play.

I've friends who write plays, and they say the same thing--they aye wait till the second nicht before they cheer, no matter how grand a success they think they ha' the first nicht, and hoo many times they ha' to step oot before the curtain and bow, and how many times they're called upon for a speech.
So when the second nicht they made me gie e'en more encores than the first I began to be fair sure.

And the word had spread, I learned, to the managers o' other halls; twa-three of them were aboot to hear me.
My agent had seen to that; he was glad enough to promise me all the London engagements I wanted noo that I'd broken the ice for masel'! I didna blame him for havin' been dootfu'.

He knew his business, and it would ha' been strange had he ta'en me at my word when I told him I could succeed where others had failed that had come wi' reputations better than my own.
I think I'd never quite believed, before, the tales I'd heard of the great sums the famous London artists got.

It took the figures I saw on the contracts I was soon being asked to sign for appearances at the Pavilion and the Tivoli and all the other famous music halls to make me realize that all I'd heard was true.