Looking backward de Edward Bellamy
I first saw the light in the city of Boston in the year 1857. "What !" you say. "Eighteen fifty-seven ? That is an odd slip. He means nineteen fifty-seven, of course." I beg your pardon, but there's no mistake. It was about four in the afternoon of December the 26th, that I frist breathed the east wind of Boston, which, I assure the reader, was at that remote period marked by the same penetrating quality characterizing it in the present year of grace, 2000.