. And a drop of cream.... (_Gets up,
peeps under settle and around_.) They are gone!
And that they may never come back! I wouldn't
wish to be brought riding a thorny bush in the night
time into the cold that is behind the sun! What
now did they say? Or is it dreaming I was? Oh,
it was not! They spoke clear and plain. The
hidden spell that I was seeking, they said it to be
in the hiding hole under the hearth. (_Pokes,
sneezes_.) Bad cess to Celia leaving that much
ashes to be choking me. Well, the luck has come
to me at last!

(_Sings as he searches_.)

"Proudly the note of the trumpet is sounding,
Loudly the war cries rise on the gale;
Fleetly the steed by Lough Swilly is bounding
To join the thick squadrons in Saimear's green vale.
On every mountaineer, strangers to flight and fear;
Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Hugh
Bonnaught and gallowglass, throng from each mountain pass.
On for old Erin, O'Donnall Abu."

(_Pokes at hearthstone_.) Sure enough, it's
loose! It's moving! Wait till I'll get
a wedge under it!

(_Takes fork from table_.) It's coming!

(_Door suddenly opens and he drops fork and
springs back_.)

_Mother_: (_Coming in with Rock and Flannery_.)
Here now, come in the two of ye. Here now, Conan,
is two of the neighbours, James Rock of Lis Crohan
and Fardy Flannery the rambling herd, that are
come to get a light for the pipe and they walking
the road from the Fair.

_Conan_: That's the way you make a fool of me
promising me peace and quiet for to sleep!

_Mother_: Ah, so I believe I did. But it slipped
away from me, and I listening to the blackbird on
the bush.

_Conan_: (_To Rock_.) I wonder, James Rock,
that you wouldn't have on you so much as a halfpenny
box of matches!

_Rock_: (_Trying to get to hearth_.) So I have
matches. But why would I spend one when I can
get for nothing a light from a sod?

_Flannery_: Sure, I could give you a match I
have this long time, waiting till I'll get as much
tobacco as will fill a pipe.

_Mother_: It's the poor man does be generous.
It's gone from my mind, Fardy, what was it
brought you to be a servant of poverty?

_Flannery_: Since the day I lost on the road my
forty pound that I had to stock my little farm of
land, all has wore away from me and left me bare
owning nothing unless daylight and the run of
water. It was that put me on the Shaughrann.

(_Sings "The Bard of Armagh."_)

"Oh, list to the lay of a poor Ir