_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.

[D