Three Plays | Page 4

puts money on a shelf.
CONN (with dignity) Thank you, Brian. There's few I'd let put me
under a compliment; but I take it from you. Maire, as I said, is a careful
girl, but some of us must have our freedom. Besides, Brian, the bird
that sings lone sings slow. The man of art must have his listeners.
(Conn takes the money off dresser) Anne, daughter, what's keeping you
there? Sure the spectacles were in my pocket the whole time, child.
(Anne comes dawn) When I spoke against the people about here, I was
leaving you out of it, Brian.
BRIAN I'm fond of tune, though it wasn't here I got fond of it.
Brian goes to the door.
ANNE (going to Brian) You won't be rambling again, Brian?
BRIAN I'm settled here, Anne; I made it up with my brothers.
ANNE They used to say that a MacConnell quarrel was a lasting

quarrel.
BRIAN Maybe we're working the bad blood out of us.
ANNE Don't be staying out long, Brian.
BRIAN Till Maire gives me the call.
Brian MacConnell goes out.
ANNE We oughtn't to take another clay from Brian MacConnell.
There's only the patch at the back to be mown, and you could do that
yourself.
CONN You can depend on me for the mowing. I'm going up now, to go
over an oul' tune I have.
ANNE James Moynihan would come over and stack for us.
CONN James Moynihan is a decent boy, too.
ANNE You won't be going out to-night, father?
CONN Now, how's a man to know what he'll be doing?
ANNE It leaves me very anxious.
CONN I'll give you this advice, and it's proper advice to give to a girl
thinking of marrying. Never ask of your menkind where they're going.
ANNE The like of that brings bad luck on a house.
CONN You have too much dead knowledge, and the shut fist never
caught a bird.
ANNE I only wish you were settled down.
CONN Sure I am settled down.

ANNE I can't speak to you, after all.
CONN You're a good girl, Anne, and he'll be lucky that gets you. And
don't be grieving that you're not bringing James Moynihan a fortune.
You're bringing him the decency of birth and rearing. You're like the
lone pigeon I often think--the pet that doesn't fly, and keeps near the
house.
ANNE That's the way you always treat me, and I never can talk to you.
CONN (at window) Hush now, here's the other, your sister Maire. She's
like the wild pigeon of the woods. (Maire Hourican comes in) We were
discoursing on affairs, Maire. We won't be bringing Brian MacConnell
here tomorrow; there's only the bit at the back to be mown, and I'll do
that myself.
_Conn Hourican goes into the room right; soon after the fiddle is heard.
Anne goes to the settle, and takes up her knitting. Maire takes her
shawl off, and hangs it on the rack. Maire Hourican is over twenty. She
is tall, and has easy, graceful movements; her features are fine and
clear-cut; the nose is rather blunted, the mouth firm. Her gaze is direct
and clear. She has heavy auburn hair, loose now, and falling. Maire
comes down to the table, opens basket, and takes some flowers from
top. She turns to dresser and arranges some of the flowers in a jar_.
MAIRE We'd have no right to take another day from Brian. And when
there's no one here to-morrow, you and me could draw some of the turf.
ANNE Your hair is loose, Maire.
Maire goes to the mirror and fixes her hair.
MAIRE The wind blew it about me, and then I let it down. I came
home by the long way, just to feel young again with my hair about me.
ANNE And did you meet any one?
MAIRE Indeed I did. I met James Moynihan.

ANNE James had to go early. They're building at his place.
MAIRE Indeed they ought to let James build a house for himself.
ANNE Some day they will, Maire.
MAIRE But we must not let some day be a far day.
ANNE (hesitatingly) I think I'll show you something.
MAIRE What is it, daughter?
_Anne rises and goes to the dresser. She opens drawer. Maire watches
her_.
MAIRE (waiting) I made a good girl out of you, anyway.
ANNE You wouldn't let me use stroller words when we were on the
road. Do you mind of that?
MAIRE I kept you to the mannerly ways. I have that to my credit.
ANNE (showing Maire the verses) Read that, Maire. It was James that
made it.
MAIRE It's a song, I declare.
ANNE No, Maire, it's a poem.
MAIRE A poem? O, that's grand!
She begins to read it