Chapter I: Part 1

THE TURN OF THE ROAD.
A PLAY IN TWO SCENES
AND AN EPILOGUE. BY
RUTHERFORD MAYNE.

MAUNSEL & CO., Limited,
DUBLIN. 1907.

_This play was produced in Belfast, December 1906, by the
Ulster Literary Theatre. (All acting rights reserved by the
Author.)_

_To LEWIS PURCELL_

_In remembrance of his kindly aid and criticism._

CHARACTERS:

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN, a farmer.
MRS. GRANAHAN, his wife.
SAMUEL JAMES, } their sons.
ROBBIE JOHN, }
ELLEN, their daughter.
THOMAS GRANAHAN, father of Wm. John Granahan.
JOHN GRAEME, a farmer.
JANE, his daughter.
MR. TAYLOR, a Creamery Manager.
A TRAMP FIDDLER.

THE SCENE throughout is laid in the Kitchen of William John
Granahan's house in the County of Down.

TIME.--The Present Day.

A month elapses between Scenes I. and II.

THE TURN OF THE ROAD.

SCENE I.

A farm kitchen of the present day. Door at back, opening to
yard, and window with deal table on which are lying dishes
and drying cloths with basin of water. A large crock under
table. A dresser with crockery, etc., stands near to another
door which opens into living rooms. Opposite there is a
fireplace with projecting breasts, in which a turf fire is
glowing. Time, about eight of a summer evening in July. Mrs.
Granahan and Ellen are engaged at table washing and drying
the plates after the supper. Thomas Granahan, the
grandfather, is seated at fire place and has evidently just
finished his stirabout. The strains of a quaint folk-air
played on a violin, sound faintly from the inner room.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Is that the whole of them now Ellen?

ELLEN.

Yes that's all now but one.

[She goes across to grandfather and lifts
the plate.]

Have you finished granda?

GRANDFATHER.

Yes dearie I have done.

[He pauses and fumbles for his pipe, &c.]

Is'nt that a fiddle I'm hearing?

ELLEN.

Yes. Robbie's playing the fiddle in the low room.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Arranging plates on dresser and turning
round.]

I wish some one would stop that boy's fool nonsense wi' his fiddle. He's far too fond o' playin'. It would stand him better to mind his work.

[Calls.]

Robbie!

[Louder.]

D'you hear me Robbie?

ELLEN.

Oh, let the boy be, mother. Its the first time I've heard him at it this week.

GRANDFATHER.

Och aye. Let the boy enjoy himself. You're only young wanst you know, Mary.

ELLEN.

I think it must be a great thing to be a great musician. Sometimes I believe Robbie should try his luck with that fiddle of his. Somehow I know--I feel he _is_ a genius at it.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

What notions you do have to be sure. To think of a big grown man like Robbie John spending his life-time at an old fiddle.

[Sharply.]

Blathers and nonsense. Its time that boy was out lookin' at the cattle.

[Calls.]

Are you there Robbie?

[Louder.]

Robbie John.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[From without. The fiddle ceases suddenly
and he comes and stands with it in his
hand at the door.]

Aye.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

You'd better go down to the low field and see the cattle haven't broken through into Aura Boyd's corn. You couldn't keep them beasts in when the flies gets at them.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Just one second till I try this again.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Now, will you go when I tell you. You and your ould fiddle. It'll be the death of you yet. Mind what I say.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Coming through door and standing there.]

Bad cess to the cattle and Aura Boyd.

GRANDFATHER.

He's a tarr'ble unneighbourly man.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

He's a cross grained man right enough, but it wouldn't do to have the cattle trampin' and eatin' his corn.

ROBBIE JOHN.

I was down there only ten minutes ago when you sent me, and they were eatin' there quite peaceable.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Now will you go Robbie John when your mother wants you. Aura Boyd sent over here this forenoon to say if that Kerry cow broke into his field again he'd have the law agin us.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Och, he's a cross ould cratur. Sure, she had only one foot through the hedge when he turned her.

[He sees mother is getting impatient.]

All right; I'm away.

[He goes back into room, leaves fiddle
there, comes into kitchen again and
goes out by door to yard.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

He's as ill to drive as the ould mare to meetin' a Sundays.

[She goes and looks through door into
room.]

Look at the time it is and your father and Samuel James niver back yet Ellen. They're terrible late o' comin'.

ELLEN.

Och, I suppose they've met some dealer at the fair and are driving a hard bargain as usual.

GRANDFATHER.

I wonner if they got that foal red off their hands yet. It'll be a job I'm thinkin'. He was a miserable baste, and tarr'ble broken in the wind.

ELLEN.

Och, trust father to make that all right. I heard Mr. Taylor, of the creamery, say that father could sell you skim milk for cream, better than any man he knew.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Seating herself at chair beside table at
back.]

Oh, aye. It's easy for _him_ to talk, but money's hard o' makin', and if people's soft it's their own fault. Only I hope they've no' taken any drink.

GRANDFATHER.

It's no fault in a good man if he does take a half-un.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Now, don't you be startin' to talk that way. It's always the way with them dailers. Muddle the good man's head with whiskey, and then _do_ him.

ELLEN.

[Standing nonchalantly at table facing
front with hands resting on it.]

They'll not muddle father much I'm thinkin'. Besides, Samuel James is with him.

GRANDFATHER.

Samuel James is a cunnin' rascal.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Don't you miscall my son Mr. Granahan. He's a canny good son and works hard, and is worth more than half-a-dozen men like Robbie John. They'll no put their finger in his eye.

[Goes to door back.]

Bliss my heart there's that sow among the kale. Shoo!

[She goes out and is heard shouting.]

ELLEN.

[Laughing.]

That poor sow. It has the times of it.

[Robbie John enters and sits down near
grandfather.]

GRANDFATHER.

Well, son; what about the cattle?

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Weariedly.]

Och, they're all right. I knowed they'd be all right. It's always the way.

GRANDFATHER.

[Soothingly.]

They are a terrible newsance, indeed, Robbie.

ROBBIE JOHN.

But that's not what troubles me. Why can't mother leave me alone for just a few minutes till I get some time to myself at the fiddle. I niver touch it but I'm taken away and sent off somewhere.

ELLEN.

[Seating herself at chair beside Robbie
John.]

Don't be cross with her Robbie, dear. She's anxious about the cattle.

ROBBIE JOHN.

But, Ellen, look here. Any time I can get to have just a tune on that fiddle, someone's sure to take me away from it. Father sends me out to mend gaps that were mended, or cut turf that was cut, or fodder horses that were foddered. And when he's away and I might have some chance, mother does the same. Here I've been workin' for the past week, day in and day out, and the very first chance I get, I must run after the cattle or somethin'.

[Despondently,]

Nobody has any feelin' for me here at all.

GRANDFATHER.

Now, now; Robbie. It's all for your own good, son, she does it.

ELLEN.

And we feel for him, don't we Grand-da? You mustn't look so cross, Robbie. You know that they think you're too much wrapped up in that fiddle of yours, and they want to break you off it.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Determinedly.]

That they never will; never.

ELLEN.

[Coaxingly.]

Oh! look grandfather at the cross Robbie.

GRANDFATHER.

[Gazing amusedly at Robbie John.]

Indeed, Robbie, you look like them prize fightin' men ye see up in the town.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Well, there; is that any better.

[He smiles half bitterly.]

ELLEN.

A wee bit. I wish Jennie Graeme seen you with that face. You wouldn't get your arm round her so easy then; would he Grand-da?

GRANDFATHER.

A bonny wee girl she is, and has a fine farm and land comin' till her.

[Aside.]

Boys a dear but these musicians gets the fine weemin.

ROBBIE JOHN.

There, there; and creamery managers sometimes gets them too, Grand-da.

GRANDFATHER.

Indeed, that Taylor man will get a body can cook sowans anyway.

ELLEN.

[Looking through window.]

Here's mother.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Enters and sits down exhausted on chair
at side of table next door.]

That sows a torment. I just had her out and back she doubles again. She just has me fair out of wind turnin' her out.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Rising and making toward door into room.]

I can go and have some practisin' now.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Robbie John, I seen the carts comin' up the loanin'. Your father will be in, in no time. He'll no be pleased to see you han'lin' that,

[pointing to the fiddle.]

just when he comes back.

[Starts up as if suddenly reminded.]

I must go and get them eggs counted.

[Goes out again through door to yard.]

ELLEN.

Aye, Robbie; don't take it. He'll just think you've been playin' that all the time he was away. And he's always that cross after markets, you couldn't stand him.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Sitting down again.]

You're right. I don't want another talkin' to like the last one; but its hard.

[He takes up a stick from fuel beside fireplace
and starts whittling it. The rattle of carts
is heard. Samuel James passes the window and
walks in. He is partially intoxicated, enough
only to make him talkative.]

ELLEN.

Well, how did the fair go off?

[Samuel James takes off his overcoat, flings
it on back of chair beside dresser and sits
down heavily.]

Ah! you've been takin' a drop, as usual.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Scowls at this but does not deny.]

The fair. Oh, it was great value. Sure grand-da he sould the foal for thirty poun'.

GRANDFATHER.

[Astonished]

Boys a dear but William John Granahan bates the divil. And who took her?

SAMUEL JAMES.

There was a cavalryman bought her. Boys but Da is the hard man to plaze. We stopped at Muc Alanan's on the way home and met William John McKillop there, and he toul' the oul' man he was a fool to let a good horse go at that price, for he was lookin' all roads to give him thirty poun' for it; only he couldn't get in time for the sale.

GRANDFATHER.

[Incredulously.]

Who did you say? McKillop?

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Laughing.]

Aye.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Smiling.]

Sure McKillop hasn't two sov'rins in the wide world. He was only takin' a rise out of Da.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Sure I knowed the ould Yahoo hadn't the price of a nanny-goat. But of course, Da tuk it all in for gospel. And me sittin' listenin to him tellin' ould McKillop what a grand action the foal had and the shoulders the baste had, and the way it could draw thirty hundred up Killainey hill without a pech.

GRANDFATHER.

[Astonished.]

William John Granahan makes a tarr'ble fine Sunday School teacher.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Grinning.]

But to see ould McKillop sittin' there as solemn as a judge, drinkin' it all in as if gospel and winkin' at me on the sly, the ould rascal, and cursin' his luck at losin' such a bargain.

[The voice of William John Granahan can be
heard inviting some one to come on. The
strains of a fiddle played by uncertain
but unmistakeably professional hands,
sounds from the same direction.]

ELLEN.

[Looking out through window into yard.]

Who's that father has got with him Samuel James? Oh such a dirty looking man!

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Chuckling.]

Da got ahoult of him at Buckna cross roads and right or wrong he'd have him home wi' him to show Robbie John what fiddlin' brings a man till.

ELLEN.

[Severely.]

Its my mind that you and father have been stayin' too long in the public house, Samuel James.

[William John Granahan and tramp fiddler
can be seen outside window.]

Look at them--comin' in! oh my; wait till mother sees the pair of them.

[William John Granahan comes in leading
a ragged looking bearded tramp with
an old fiddle tucked under his arm.]

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Now we're hame, and we'll get a drop to drink and a bite to eat, Mr. Fiddler.

[He goes over to fireplace and stands
with his back to the fire.]

Take a sate at the fire and warm yourself.

[No one offers a seat to the tramp who
stands puzzled looking and swaying in
a drunken manner in the kitchen,
slightly in front of Samuel James, who
remains seated beside dresser engaged
in taking off his leggings.]

Ellen. Get us a drop o' tay and give this poor misguided cratur somethin' to eat.

ELLEN.

[Moves over to dresser and then stands at
door into room. She evidently disapproves
of the tramp and does not offer to obey.
The grandfather rises in disgust and
moves his chair nearer the fireplace
away from the tramp.]

TRAMP.

[To Ellen.]

Your pardon noble lady, I intrude. Your pardon signor I incommode you. Times change and so do men. Ladies and gentlemen behold in me the one time famous leader of the Blue Bohemian Wind and String Band that had the honour of appearing before all the crowned heads of Europe.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

God bless me, d'you say so mister? D'ye hear that Robbie John. There's a fiddler for you and see what comes of it.

TRAMP.

Perhaps with your permission I may venture to play you a few extracts from my repertoire. I can play to suit all tastes from a simple country ballad to a concerto by Brahms or the great Russian composer Tschaikouski.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Openmouthed.]

Them Rooshians has the tarr'ble names!

TRAMP.

Firstly I shall play that touching little ballad I heard Monsieur here warble so sweetly as we rolled homeward on his chariot. If I play he accompanies me with voice. Ne'st ce pas, Monsieur?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Nervously.]

Is your mother out Ellen?

ELLEN.

She's lookin' after the hens I think. She won't hear you.

[William John Granahan starts singing
two verses of a folk song, the tramp
accompanying meanwhile with fiddle,
always putting in an extra flourish.
The rest all join, even the grandfather
beats time with a stick. The door opens
and Mrs. Granahan appears seemingly
astonished at the uproar. All
suddenly cease singing and try to appear
innocent, except the tramp, who
goes on playing. He suddenly notices
the cessation.]

TRAMP.

Bravo. A most exquisite little air and beautifully rendered.

[He stops short on seeing Mrs. Granahan
who stands glaring at him arms akimbo.]

Your pardon madam. You are the mistress I take it of this most noble and hospitable house.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Ignoring him and going to centre of
floor where she looks angrily at
William John Granahan who endeavours
to appear unconcerned.]

You should be well ashamed of yourself William John Granahan. What will they say about you in the Session I wonner next Sabbath day. D'you think my house is a home for all the dirt and scum of the country side?

TRAMP.

Your pardon madam. You owe me an apology. Appearances belie me but scum I am not. I was at one time the well known and justly famous leader of the Blue Bohemian Wind and String--

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Wind and string fiddlesticks. Out you go. Out you will go. I want no tramps in here upsettin' my house and makin' it the talk of the neighbours. Out you go at once.

TRAMP.

[With drunken pride.]

I thrust my company on no man or woman uninvited.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Out you go. I want no excuses. Put him out of this Samuel James.

[Samuel James eludes his mother's eye
and beckons the tramp to stay on.]

The drunken wretch comin' in here. A nice place you'd have it William Granahan with your fine company.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

I brought him home here as a tarr'ble and awful warnin' to Robbie John what this sort of an occupation brings a man till. Yon see him Robbie John. There's you're great fiddlin' for you. Be warned in time.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[The tramp moves to the door. Robbie
John rises and goes across to him and
taps him on the shoulder.]

Here.

[Slips him money.]

God bless you poor wanderin' soul and God forbid any Granahan should ever be treated as you have been.

TRAMP.

Sir, I thank you.

[Coming back to him and confidentially.]

Perhaps I could yet please your ears with a romanza which I composed myself--

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Away with you out of this. We want none of your music here.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[To tramp.]

Why don't you give up playin' that fiddle of yours and turn your hand to honest work?

TRAMP.

[Proudly.]

Desert my fiddle. The fiddle presented to me at Vienna by my orchestra! A genuine old Cremona 200 years old! Rather would I wander in Hades for ever. Never! Though cruel words stab and wound me.

[Half sobbing.]

Farewell.

[All remain quiet. The strains of a melancholy
air like a serenade come from outside. It
slowly dies away in the distance. Robbie John
moves forward as if to go out.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Sharply.]

Robbie John. Where are you going? Don't dare to leave the house. My son going out to keep company with the likes of that dirty rapscallion.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Ah mother pity the poor wretch. Every word you said to him cut and wounded me to the quick. Did you not see the tears in his eyes for all his fine talk. I should like to know more about him.

SAMUEL JAMES.

If you went to the sergeant at the barrack, I warrant ye he could tell you more about him.

[He bends down as if to catch the sound
of the fiddling which grows very faint.]

Listen!

[Robbie John moves to door and opens it.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Angrily.]

Where are you going?

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Rapt.]

Listen.

[He holds his hand for silence. Then
quickly goes out.]

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[To get into his wife's good graces.]

Well Mary the foal's sould at last.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

I've a crow to pluck wi' you over that same foal, William Granahan. I suppose they did you as usual.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Getting angry.]

Nine and thirty year ha'e I gone till market and no man, woman, child, dog or divil ever got the better of me in a bargain yet and right well you know it.

[With pride.]

I soul' the foal for thirty poun' not a ha'penny less.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Doubtfully.]

I hope you ha'e it all wi' you.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

I ha'e it all but two shillin' and wan penny.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

And can you account for them?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Woman dear would you ha'e me go and come to market wi'out a ha'penny in my pocket? Have some gumption about ye.

[In a loud angry voice.]

I'm danged but the next time I make a good bargain, I'll go and ha'e a week to myself in Newcastle or Belfast. I'm young enow yet.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

There. Stop your fool talk in front of the children and go and change your clothes.

GRANDFATHER.

It was a good price indeed.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Slily.]

Yes. He soul' it for thirty poun' and William John McKillop lookin' all roads to give him forty for it.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Angrily and stamping his foot.]

Will you houl' your tongue you blatterin' blatherin' idiot. Bad scran to ye for a meddle--

[He goes forward to go into room and aims
a box on the ears at Samuel James who
retreats to table and watches him go
through door followed by Mrs. Granahan.
A noise of voices in angry argument is
heard.]

SAMUEL JAMES.

Now he'll catch it. If I had been Da I would ha'e kept back five poun' and toul' her I soul' it for twenty-five, but the ould man's that honest, he knows no better.

[Robbie John enters. He goes to seat
himself in his old position but
stops a moment when spoken to, and
then in a petulant manner takes his
seat on hearing the speech.]

Well Robbie and what d'ye think of his great object lesson till ye. It was me put it intil Da's head. I thought there might be a bit o' value.

[Chuckles.]

ELLEN.

There. I just thought it was you did it.

[She comes and sits down again beside table
at left. Samuel James seats himself on
table carelessly and swings his legs under.]

You're a schemer that's what you are.

GRANDFATHER.

Aye. There's a dale of the crook in ye Samuel James. You're deeper nor one would think.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Suddenly to Robbie John.]

I seen Jenny Graeme at the market to-day Robbie.

[Robbie John does not answer, being evidently
shy.]

Oh well, maybe you're no interested in her.

[To Ellen.]

Man there was a fine lock o' cattle at the fair, Ellen.

ELLEN.

I'm sure there was. Who else did you see?

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Unwillingly but unable to restrain his
jealousy.]

Who was with her? Who left her home?

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Nodding slily to Ellen.]

Young M'Donnell o' the Hill head was looking after her pretty close.

ELLEN.

[Glancing at Robbie and then at Samuel
James and smiling.]

He's a very nice young man.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Savagely.]

I wish her luck wi' yon booby.

SAMUEL JAMES.

There's nothin' the matter wi' him. He has a nice place and a fine farm forbye.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Farms and cattle and crops don't make a fine man.

GRANDFATHER.

Deed now Robbie, they goes a long ways.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[To himself.]

Better nor bows and fiddles and such trash.

[To Robbie John.]

I heerd up at Bann to-day, that ye won three poun' at the Feis at Newcastle a Monday.

ELLEN.

I knew that on Tuesday. It was fine of Robbie wasn't it?

SAMUEL JAMES.

It all depends. Da heard it for the first time to-day and I can tell you it didn't seem fine to him. Coorse a poun' or two would ha'e made a differ o' opinion same as it done wi' you I expect.

ELLEN.

You needn't sneer at me. It was me told Robbie to keep it. He was goin' to give it all up. I wouldn't be so mean as to take it off him.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Oh you're an unusual sort of young woman I know but if Robbie John takes my advice, he better choose quick between playin' the fiddle and stayin' on here.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Give up my fiddle. Never.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Well you can plaze yourself. I suppose you could make as much by fiddlin' as if you stayed on here and waited till we had the place divid among the three of us.

ELLEN.

Why I heard from Mr. Taylor that father was worth four or five hundred pounds and then the two farms.

GRANDFATHER.

Aye. You'd be a long time Robbie John earnin' that wi' your fiddle. Don't heed his fool talk son. Stay at home and nivir mind the musicians.

ELLEN.

Robbie dear, and I'm sure Mr. Graeme would never let his daughter marry a penniless fiddler--even if she would herself. I don't know. She might and she--mightn't.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Rising from table and stretching himself.]

Coorse if he made a name for himself he could marry the landlord's daughter. I heerd the quality go mad after the musicianers.

[Makes to door.]

Well I'm going to wash my hands.

[Goes out to yard.]

GRANDFATHER.

Robbie dear. Come here.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Aye. What is it?

GRANDFATHER.

Take heed till yourself. I know what's going on better nor you. Take an ould man's advice. Settle yourself down and give up that string instrument. Coorse I daresay you may go and become a great man wi' it but you're more like to become a cratur like thon that was in as not. There's no good runnin' risks. And your father, I heerd him say himself, if you make your bed, you'll lie on it, for he'll nivir help you out, once you take to the fiddlin'.

ELLEN.

Aye Robbie. Its far better not to run the risk of becoming a beggar man.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Well I'll think over it Ellen. I'll think over it.

GRANDFATHER.

Robbie, come out wi' me.

[The two go out by door into yard.
William John and Mrs. Granahan come
in arguing excitedly.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Well you can ha'e the poun' if you like, but I can tell you its a sore pinch to make things do, what with the price of the sugar riz up and the flour.

[Samuel James comes in. He takes in
the situation and seats himself again
on the table near Ellen who remains
still seated beside it.]

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

There. That's enough to do about it.

[He goes over to armchair but does not sit
down and remains facing Mrs. Granahan.]

Twenty nine poun' you'll get and no more.

[Emphatically.]

Min' that.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

I'll min' it right enough William Granahan. And its a sore time I have trying to keep in wi' one hand what you lavish out wi' the other.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Nudging Ellen slily.]

I was talking by the way to Mrs. McCrum the milliner, mother, to-day, and she said to give you word she'd have your new tay gown ready for you a Tuesday week.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Triumphantly.]

There you are ma'am. There you are. Keepin' it in wi' one hand were you? Faith if I know anything you lather it out wi both hands and feet. You want to rob me of me one poun' do ye? And all for an ould tay gown!

[Contemptuously.]

A tay gown!

ELLEN.

[Maliciously.]

A taygown's not expensive.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Oh indeed now? Hach. You'll be wantin' one next I suppose. A nice house this is, where a man couldn't get keepin' as much as would buy him an ounce o' tobaccy.

[Viciously.]

Man I do hate this hypockerisy.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

I'll not talk any more till ye, William Granahan. You're full o' drink and bad tongued.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

If you say any more till me, I'll smash all the crockery in the house.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Come out Ellen to the creamery and maybe when we come in, he'll be a bit cooler in the head.

[She hurries out followed by Ellen through
door to yard.]

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[To Samuel James.]

She's a tarr'ble woman your mother when she's started. But I'm much obliged to you Samuel James for the mention o' that tay gown. By me sang, but that turned the enemy's flank.

[Laughs.]

I'm danged but you're the boy.

[Gratefully.]

Heth you saved me a poun' anyway.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Rising and going over sheepishly to him.]

You'll not forget me Da? will you?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Suspiciously.]

Na.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Well ye might gie us a part o' it.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

How much dy'e want?

SAMUEL JAMES.

Twelve shillin'.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Would you take the very boots off me feet. Where would I get ye twelve shillin'.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Out o' the poun' o' coorse. Where else?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Grumblingly.]

You're askin' ower much. If it was a saxpence

[Samuel James shrugs his shoulders.]

or a shillin'

[Samuel James shrugs more emphatically.]

or two shillin'?

SAMUEL JAMES.

No.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

or half a crown?

SAMUEL JAMES.

No.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

I'd think nothing of lendin' them till ye. But twelve shillin'! Would three shillin' no' do?

SAMUEL JAMES.

No. It won't. Either give me the twelve shillin' or I'll tell her about your conduck--

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

There. There it is an bad scran to ye. To think o' me walkin' ten mile to the fair and back and arguin' wi' dailers and chates of all kinds and gettin thirty poun' for a baste I wouldn't buy myself for thirty shillin' and only gettin' eight shillin' out o' it.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Whistling and counting money delightedly.]

Aye. Its a hard world and no mistake.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Excitedly.]

I'll go down to the shough and drown myself I will.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Na. Go to MucAlanan's and drown yerself.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

I'm danged but you're right. Na. Na. She'll hear me goin' out by the gate.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Boys but you're the poor hearted man. Well I'm away.

[He makes to door.]

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Where now?

SAMUEL JAMES.

To Courdy Williamson's for the loan of a monkey wrinch for the new machine. The hay's for cuttin' the morrow.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Oh aye. An you'll be for coortin' that young imp of a daughter o' his I warrant ye. Were you there yisterday forenoon?

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Somewhat taken aback.]

Yis. Why d'ye ask?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Oh nothin'. Only I hadn't a sowl to help me wi' them cattle.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Well wasn't Robbie John at home? What ailed him he couldn't help ye?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Look you here Samuel James.

[Samuel James comes back nearer.]

I've been worried wi' that boy this long time.

[Samuel James nods approvingly.]

I've made up my mind to-day after seein' yon scarecrow we met at Buckna cross roads, Robbie John aither mends himself or he goes out o' this.

SAMUEL JAMES.

You're right Da. You hae stud his goings on a long time. I think ye do well to stop him. It's only doin' him a kindness.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

I'll just ask him to burn it when he comes in. If he won't, he can just plaze himself. I'll hae no more to do wi' him.

[Suddenly.]

I wunner what his mother would say to that?

SAMUEL JAMES.

She' just as tired of it as you are. Wait; I'll call her in.

[Goes to door back and shouts.]

Are you there ma'am?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Without.]

Aye.

[She comes to door, opens it and stands
looking inquiringly at both of them.]

Well?

SAMUEL JAMES.

Da's just been talkin' about Robbie John, and he wants you to hear what he says.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Robbie John's an idle useless paghle. He'll aither mend himself or go out o' this.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Sharply.]

Mend yourself first, me good man.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Its not like as if he tuk a drop o' drink or fell in wi' bad company, for you'll get quet o' drink and bad company if you hae no money.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Slily.]

It was mother and I larnt you that.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Snappishly.]

Will you hould your tongue.

[To Mrs. Granahan.]

When he might ha' been lookin after the cattle or the pigs or somethin else, where is he? Up in the loft playin that damnation fiddle o' his. Night an mornin' he's at it.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Deed and he's doin badly by it and no mistake. He's not been worth a ha' penny till us, this last six months. I think you do right just to stop him.

SAMUEL JAMES.

I heerd he won three poun' at the Feis last Monday at Newcastle.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

There you are. And he never offered me one ha'penny o' it. Me that brought him up and raired and fed him. Them that plays the fiddle comes to no good end, I can tell ye.

[Reminiscently and with a sort
of shame-faced pride.]

Not but I wasn't the great man at it myself wanst. And you were the girl that could ha' danced to it Mary. But thank God I quet it.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Curiously.]

Why?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

I might ha took to drink and bad company and the like.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

You're no rid o' that yet William Granahan. Ye mind what way ye come home last Bann Fair on top o' the bread cart.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Slily.]

Yis. And the way the Scarva man done him out o' the price o' the two pigs.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

That's one thing I can't get over. Was it in a public house ye met him?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

There. There. Thats enough to do about it. I hear enough about drinkin' from John Graeme every session day without you etarnally at it.

[Robbie John and Grandfather enter. They
evidently understand from the looks of
those present that something important
is talked of.]

Where's that fiddle of yours Robbie John? Bring it to me.

[Robbie John looks curiously at him and
then at Samuel James. He goes into room
and brings it out. He holds it in his
hands and looks suspiciously at the
father.]

Now Robbie John listen to what I and your mother have thought about this. For our sake and your own we want you to give up that accursed thing and put it from you.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Why? What harm does it do you or me?

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

It makes you negleck your work. It makes you think o' things you shouldn't think o'. It makes you loss slape o' nights sitting up an playin' and then you can't rise in the mornin'. When you should be polissin the harness, or mendin' a ditch, or watchin' the cattle, or feedin' the poultry, you've got this thing in your hand and practisin' on it.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Indignantly.]

Its not true. I don't do these things. I--

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

Now will you atten' to your duties and give up this playin'. What good will it ever do ye? Ye seen what it brought yon man till that was in here. It's a tarrible warnin' till ye.

ROBBIE JOHN.

The fiddle didn't make him what he is. The drink did that.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Scornfully.]

Aye. The leader of an ould circus band or somethin' like.

[Getting excited.]

I'd just do wi that as I'd do with a sarpint. Trample it under my heels.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Threateningly.]

Dare to put a hand on it. I'll kill the first man tries to.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Angrily.]

You dar' talk that way to your father!

[Soothingly.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Now Robbie dear. Don't be gettin' on that way.

GRANDFATHER.

Robbie my son mind what I was tellin' ye. Its better to bear it if you can my son. Its a hard thing but you can take my word for it, you'll no regret it.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Sadly.]

I had o' coorse a will drawn up and signed by 'torney McAllan and was for lavin' ye nice an' comfortable when I was to be takin' away.

[He breaks down.]

Robbie, Robbie, my son, sure its not my heart you're for breakin'.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Coorse I heerd from one o' the judges, Robbie, at the Feis that you had the touch o' a master, and all that sort o' thing; but I advise ye--

[Here the grandfather shakes his stick at
him threateningly.]

I advise ye--of coorse its hard to know.

GRANDFATHER.

[Looking angrily at Samuel James.]

Don't think o' that Robbie. Sure every man that plays a fiddle, thinks he's a genius. Don't be led astray son.

WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN.

[Coaxingly.]

Aye. Your grand-da has sense wi' him Robbie. After all what about it. Man there's that bonny wee lass waitin' for you over at Graemes. To the fire wi' it.

[Robbie John hesitates. The grandfather
pats him approvingly. With bowed head he
goes forward to place it on the fire.]

CURTAIN.

SCENE II.

The same scene. Ellen and Mrs. Granahan seated near fire.

ELLEN.

So Mr. Graeme is comin' over here to settle matters with father to-day do you say?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Yes child, he's comin' to-day.

ELLEN.

What is it all about?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Well I suppose he's anxious to see what money is comin' to Robbie John. He doesn't want to throw his daughter away without askin' questions. I expeck she's well enough to do to marry anyone she likes, but he's a canny man.

ELLEN.

Well I suppose he's right. He must be anxious to see her well married.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Oh now between the two of them, Robbie John will be a sight better off, nor your father and I, Ellen when we married.

ELLEN.

Robbie's a lucky man too. I never seen anyone as fond of him as she is. I wonner when father will be goin' to see anyone about me?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Oh whist child, your time's comin'. Who was it left ye home from John Graeme's temperance lecture?

ELLEN.

[Slily.]

That's a secret.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Knowingly.]

Not till me. He's a brave body anyway.

ELLEN.

Who?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Now you're the soft lassie. Who's the manager of the creamery up beyont?

ELLEN.

[Unsuspectingly,]

Tom Taylor of course.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

And of coorse it was Tom Taylor left ye home.

[Knock at the door.]

Come in. Come in.

[Taylor enters.]

Why speak o' the divil--how d'ye do Mr. Taylor.

TAYLOR.

[He comes in, stands rather awkwardly
looking at Ellen, and then goes over
near them.]

Very well, thank you, ma'am.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

This is my daughter Ellen.

[Slily.]

I think ye met her afore.

TAYLOR.

[Shaking hands with Ellen, he detains her
hand for a second and then drops it.]

We did, I think, didn't we?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Knowingly.]

I just thought as much.

[Aside.]

Oh well, he's a brave body and would do rightly if the creamery does the same.

[Suddenly to Taylor.]

Are ye coortin' any this weather Mr. Taylor?

TAYLOR.

[Taken aback. Then decides to laugh it
off.]

Well--eh--no. I'm not doin' much that way.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Incredulously.]

Oh indeed. Well I heerd otherwise. Its full time ye were lookin' about for a wife. You'll be gettin' well on past thirty soon.

TAYLOR.

[Fidgeting uneasily.]

Oh I'm time enough for a couple of years or more. I want to look round me a bit.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Well ye better look sharp, for you'll soon be getting too ould for gettin' any sort of a dasint girl.

[Inquisitively.]

Ha'e ye anyone in your eye yet?

TAYLOR.

I have an account to pay your good man Mrs. Granahan.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Two poun' ten is due.

[Thinking.]

Aye. But I suppose you'll be now in what I would call a good way o' doin'.

TAYLOR.

There was a five per cent. dividend this half year. The creamery's goin' on well.

[Searching in pocket and getting out
account.]

Two pounds, nine and six, ma'am, beggin' your pardon.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Ach sure sixpence is naither here nor there to a creamery.

[Pauses.]

If that's the way you are, you could be married in a year's time and--

TAYLOR.

[Evidently desirous to lead conversation
off this topic.]

Here's the money, ma'am.

[He lays it down on the table and counts
it out.]

You'll do as well as Mr. Granahan, I suppose. You take all to do with the money part I think.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Yes I do. You were at the lecture last Monday?

TAYLOR.

[Alarmed.]

What the divil--

[Suddenly to Mrs. Granahan and genially.]

Yes. Could you oblige me with a receipt ma'am?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Surely. Here Ellen, get me the pen and ink.

[Ellen goes into room.]

I suppose now there were some nice young weemin there--eh Mr. Taylor?

TAYLOR.

[Uneasily.]

Yes. And don't forget the stamp ma'am.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Ach sure a penny stamp's what you always carry wi' ye.

[Confidentially.]

I think shame on ye Mr. Taylor, triflin' wi' the poor girls. There's no excuse for a man o' your age.

TAYLOR.

[Fidgeting.]

Well, well, I--Here's a stamp ma'am.

[Impatiently.]

I'm young enough yet. I don't want to marry yet awhile.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Well now I think ye'd be better o' some one to look after ye. There's William John Granahan. _He's_ niver done bein' thankful since he married. He says he doesn't know what he mightn't ha' been, if he hadn't married _me_.

TAYLOR.

[Slily.]

I can quite believe _that_.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

It was a good job for him, I can tell ye. For what wi' goin' to dances and the like and public houses, he was for making a nice mess o' himself.

[Confidentially.]

And between you and me, Ellen will no' be so badly off aither when he goes.

[Ellen comes in and puts paper, &c on
table.]

TAYLOR.

Here's the stamp ma'am.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Not noticing.]

And there's a girl for you Mr. Taylor, that we spent a dale o' time over, and was brought up most careful. She's none o' your or'nary girls.

ELLEN.

[Sharply.]

Oh mother!

[She looks at Taylor, smiles, and shrugs
her shoulders.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Motioning silence.]

There's too many girls runnin' about and all they can do is--sing a song or two, and dress themselves up like play actresses, and run about at bazaars and the like trying to get ahoult o' young men.

TAYLOR.

You're quite right ma'am.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Now there's Ellen was four years at a boardin' school that Mr. Graeme recommended till us, and I can tell you she got the proper schoolin', and let alone that, she can bake, sew or knit, and knows all about the managin' of a house.

ELLEN.

Oh quit!

[She looks diffidently across at Taylor,
who grins.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Counting money.]

Here. It's sixpence short o' the count.

TAYLOR.

Let me see.

[He goes to table and counts money.]

Two and two's four, and two's six, and two and six is eight and six, and one shillin'--nine and six.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Thinking.]

Nine and six. I thought it was--oh yes it _was_ nine and six.

TAYLOR.

Yes. Nine and six.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Very good. I'll write you a receip'.

[Takes pen and paper.]

ELLEN.

[To Taylor who stands looking over at her.]

You haven't been round this way a long time Mr. Taylor. What ailed you, you didn't call?

TAYLOR.

Oh I was very busy.

[He looks at Mrs. Granahan who is writing
laboriously. Then goes and examines a
fiddle that hangs on the wall.]

Ha! I thought Robbie John had burnt his fiddle and promised to play no more.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Aye so he did, but there's a strange story wi' that thing you're lookin' at. There was a tramp come here one day I was out, and when I come back, I found him playin' away on that thing, and the house in an uproar.

TAYLOR.

Aye? He left it here then?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

No, wait till I tell ye. I packed him out o' this, and the next thing I heerd about him was when a wheen o' weeks ago he was got half dead wi' wet and could in the Flough Moss. John McKillop was down for cutting turf, and foun' him in a peat hole, wi' his hands on the brew, and the ould fiddle beside him.

ELLEN.

Yes. The poor soul died the next day, and just before he died he asked McKillop to bring over his fiddle to give to Robbie John. Robbie had been kind to him sometime or other, and the poor bein' never forgot it.

TAYLOR.

Ach aye. I do remember hearin' somethin' about it. They said he had been a big man in his day I think.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Aye. He was blatherin the day he was here about bein' the leader of an ould band or somethin' like, now that I call to mind. But indeed I paid no heed till him, for he was part drunk.

TAYLOR.

[Curiously.]

You didn't get Robbie to burn this one I see.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Well you see, Samuel James said it was a very valuable one and worth fifty poun' or more may be. There's an inscription on it somewhere if you look.

TAYLOR.

[Taking down fiddle and examining it.]

Aye so I see. "To Nicholas Werner as a token of esteem from his orchestra. Vienna, 1878."

ELLEN.

Yes poor soul. He was tellin' the truth and no one believin'.

TAYLOR.

And does Robbie never play it?

ELLEN.

Not since he promised that I know of. But all the same it must tempt him for I see his eyes fixed on it often enough when he thinks no one's lookin'.

TAYLOR.

[He looks over at Mrs. Granahan who
appears to be engrossed in her
writing. He is just slipping his
arm round Ellen when Mrs. Granahan
looks up. He instantly drops his
arm.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Ha'e you that stamp Mr. Taylor?

TAYLOR.

Its usual Mrs. Granahan for whoever signs the receipt to supply the stamp, however, there you are.

[Mrs. Granahan licks the stamp, and signs
the receipt.]

The writin' doesn't come easy to you, ma'am.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Now its not very courteous makin' fun o' poor old weemin', Mr. Taylor. I thought better o' you nor that.

TAYLOR.

Ould weemin'? Talk sense, Mrs. Granahan. I only wish my ould woman, if ever I have one, looks as well as you do.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

There, there, none o' your fool nonsense. You don't go blarneyin' me, like you do the likes of Ellen there.

ELLEN.

Ach mother!

MRS. GRANAHAN.

I'm much obledged to ye for the money Mr. Taylor. I must put it by me.

[Goes into room.]

ELLEN.

I suppose you've heard about Robbie?

TAYLOR.

[Coming near her.]

No. What's happened?

ELLEN.

He's to be married to Jane Graeme at Christmas and Mr. Graeme's comin' over here to-day to settle about the money.

TAYLOR.

[Slily.]

I wonder who your father will be settlin' matters with Ellen, when you get engaged.

ELLEN.

Why, of course--whoever gets me, I suppose.

TAYLOR.

Well there's one thing I wouldn't haggle with him over.

ELLEN.

And what would that be?

TAYLOR.

Yourself of course.

[He draws her to him and makes to kiss
her. Robbie John and Samuel James pass
by the window and Ellen immediately
slips away from him. When they come
in, she lifts a can and goes out by
door to yard. Robbie John and Samuel
James seat themselves at table.

Leaning against table and nodding to
both.]

Well how's the corn doin'?

SAMUEL JAMES.

Oh, fairly well the year. How's the crame market?

TAYLOR.

Much the same. Nothin' new with you I suppose?

SAMUEL JAMES.

Well they're goin' to settle Robbie the day, that's all. He's a lucky boy.

TAYLOR.

I wish you joy, Robbie.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Thank ye. Thank ye kindly. She's a nice wee girl.

SAMUEL JAMES.

You don't seem as gay hearted as I would expect, does he Mr. Taylor? You'd think he was for getting hung or somethin'. I suppose ye heerd all about him givin' up the fiddle playin'? And the luck o' it. To burn his ould fiddle, and then get another a few days after. You'd think there was some sort of a strange warnin' or advice or somethin' in it.

TAYLOR.

It is very strange.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Samuel James do ye remember the time that ould tramp was playin' on this fiddle, as he went out that day, down the loney?

[Samuel James nods.]

Well, it seemed to me as if he were playin' to bring me out after him. D'ye mind the story, Mr. Taylor, about the piper that went off with all the children, and was niver heard tell of again.

TAYLOR.

Aye.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Well I could feel him drawin' me out after him the very same way. And last night, as sure as death, I heard the same uncanny air singin' in my ears, and it seemed to be callin' me to come out o' this.

TAYLOR.

[Exchanges startled looks with Samuel
James.]

Och I suppose the wind or somethin' outside. But there's no doubt Robbie you have a genius for the fiddle. There was a German professor of music at Newcastle the day you won the prize and he was--But its not right of me to make you vexed, now you've stopped playin'.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Ach he doesn't mind you tellin'. Do ye Robbie? Tell and hearten him up a wee bit.

TAYLOR.

This German was so struck with your playin' that he was lookin' for you all roads, but you were nowhere to be found.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Interested.]

Aye? I went straight home. I wonner what he wanted?

SAMUEL JAMES.

Perhaps he could have given him a lift, eh Mr. Taylor?

TAYLOR.

He was talkin' to me afterwards and by the way, I had clean forgot.

[Fumbling in his pocket.]

He gave me his card to give you. I have it on me somewhere I think.

[Producing it.]

Aye, there it is.

[Reading.]

Professor--somethin' or other Royal College of Music.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Keep it. If I had it, it would only temp' me.

TAYLOR.

[Looking significantly at Samuel James
who indicates by shaking his head that
he considers Robbie John hopeless.]

You're a queer character. All right. But you can have it any time.

[To Samuel James.]

I wish I had said nothin' about it. Where's the old man?

SAMUEL JAMES.

The two ould men are out in the haggard, but

[Slily.]

Ellen's in the crame-house.

[Taylor goes out through door at back.
Samuel James looks over at Robbie
John who sits deep in thought near
the fire.]

You can no' hoodwink me, Robbie. You're no' happy.

ROBBIE JOHN.

I'm happy enough.

[Angrily.]

Don't be tormentin' me.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Faith you look happy.

[Drawing closer.]

I seen you last night at it.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Looks round startled.]

I couldn't keep from it. There's a spell or somethin' on it.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Na. Na. But every fiddle has its spell for you. You broke your promise.

ROBBIE JOHN.

You followed me then?

SAMUEL JAMES.

Yes. Ye crept on your stocking soles to the back o' the forth ditch, and played there for two mortal hours, till I was heart feared they'd miss us out o' bed, and raise a cry.

ROBBIE JOHN.

And you stood two hours in the night listenin' to me.

SAMUEL JAMES.

I 'clare to God, there's somethin' out o' common wi' you or that fiddle, for I had to stop and listen, and me teeth chatterin' wi' could.

ROBBIE JOHN.

I did wrong I know, but look here Samuel James, as long as I see that thing hangin' there, my hands are itchin' to hold it, and the tunes I could play--they keep runnin' in my head.

[Suddenly rising.]

I'll destroy it.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Quieting him down.]

Na. Na. Its a vallible fiddle.

ROBBIE JOHN.

It is. Ach man but it does temp' me sorely.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Aye. You might make a fortune, the dear knows. Man I know what _I_ would do if I could play like _you_ do.

[Sarcastically.]

That was if ye had the heart.

ROBBIE JOHN.

[Excited.]

Ach quit! Quit talkin' to me that way. I'm going out.

[Goes out by door at back.]

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Getting off seat and standing about centre
of room.]

He'll take to it yet.

[He goes over nearer fireplace.]

I can see it workin' in him. Sure his hands are tremblin' and his fingers twitchin' all the times he's lookin' at it.

[The grandfather enters softly by door at
back. He stands looking at Samuel James
who does not observe him.]

Maybe its no' right of me to let it hang there. Ach. He maybe could make money plenty. I want till have a fine place and a lock o' money. And I'll build a bigger house.

GRANDFATHER.

[Hobbling over to his seat.]

Aye. Aye. Ye could do a heap wi' money, Samuel James.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Alarmed. He endeavours to bluff it with
a show of geniality.]

Money's the thing, Grand-da.

GRANDFATHER.

Its a tarr'ble fine thing, there's no doubt. Food and drink and fine clothes and fine houses ye can get.

SAMUEL JAMES.

And tobaccy and seegars and the front seat at a consart.

GRANDFATHER.

Here. Don't be temptin' Robbie John about playin' on that fiddle. You've upset the boy.

SAMUEL JAMES.

[Sharply.]

I don't temp' him.

GRANDFATHER.

You're always remindin' him of it. I can see what you're workin' for Samuel James. Ye want all the money for yourself.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Ha' sense, Grand-da. Sure they're settlin' the matter to-day and he's to be married at Christmas. He wouldn't do anythin' rash now.

GRANDFATHER.

The clock has no' struck the hour yet Samuel James. Ye could no' tell what's workin' in his mind.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Well, he'd be a fool, and what's more, he knows himself to be one if he goes. He'll lose all the money from Da if he goes, and I'm sure Jennie Graeme's father wouldn't turn his head to look at a fiddler.

GRANDFATHER.

Aye. He's tarr'ble proud o' his family.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Opens door of room and comes in.]

Here. I seen Mr. Graeme and your Da comin' up the loney from the windy in the low room.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Well, they'll be for comin' in here and we're only in the road. Come and twist a wheen o' ropes for me.

[Samuel James and Grandfather go out
by door at back.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

[Takes brush and sweeps floor. She then
arranges a kettle at the fire. Then
goes to door and looks out.]

Aye. Here he bes now and that good man o' mine talkin' till him a dozen till one. And ten till one, he'll have John Graeme that angered wi' his arguin', that there'll be nothin' settled the day.

[Sound of William John Granahan's voice.
He appears to be talking at a great
rate and most emphatically.

John Graeme and William John Granahan
pass the window.]

Aye, to be sure. He'd rather get the better o' Graeme in an argyment as settle wi' him over twenty sons, the ould gomeril.

[John Graeme and William John Granahan
enter.]

How dy'e do, Mr. Graeme?