st blast is
in the bellows upon Conan.

_Conan:_ Stop that! Do you think to change
and to crow over me. You will not or I'll lay my
curse upon you, unless you would change me into
an eagle would be turning his back upon the whole
of ye, and facing to his perch upon the right hand
of the master of the gods!

_Celia:_ Is it to waste the last blast you would?
Not at all. As we burned the candle we'll burn the
inch! I'll not make two halves of it, I'll give it to
you entirely!

_Conan:_ You will not, you unlucky witch of illwill!
(_Protects himself with umbrella_.)

_Celia: (Having got him to a corner.)_ Let you
take things quiet and easy from this out, and be as
content as you have been contrary from the very
day and hour of your birth!
_(She blows upon him and he sits down smiling.
Mother blows on Celia, and she sits down
in first attitude_.)

_Celia:_ (_Taking up pigeon_.) Oh, there you are
come back my little dove and my darling!
(_Sings: "Shule Aroon."_)

"Come sit and settle on my knee
And I'll tell you and you'll tell me
A tale of what will never be,
Go-de-tou-Mavourneen slan!"

_Conan:_ (_Lighting pipe_.) So the dove is there,
too. Aristotle said there is nothing at the end but
what there used to be at the beginning. Well now,
what a pleasant day we had together, and what
good neighbours we all are, and what a comfortable
family entirely.

_Rock:_ You would seem to have done with your
complaints about the universe, and your great plan
to change it overthrown.

_Conan:_ Not a complaint! What call have I to
go complaining? The world is a very good world,
the best nearly I ever knew.
(_Sings_.)

"O, a little cock sparrow he sat on a tree,
O, a little cock sparrow he sat on a tree,
O, a little cock sparrow he sat on a tree,
And he was as happy as happy could be,
With a chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup!

"A chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup!
A chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup!
A chirrup, a chirrup, a chirrup!
A chirrup, a chirrup, a----!"

CURTAIN

NOTE TO ARISTOTLE'S BELLOWS

I had begun to put down some notes for this play when
in the autumn of 1919 I was suddenly obliged (through
the illness and death of the writer who had undertaken it)
to take in hand the writing of the "Life and Achievement"
of my nephew Hugh Lane, and this filled my mind and
kept me hard at work for a year.

When the proofs were out