New Comedies Part 17

_Delia:_ Every horse he would back at that time it would surely win all before it. I saw the people thronging him one time, taking him in their arms for joy, and the winnings coming into his hand. It is likely they ran out through the fingers as swift nearly as they flowed in.

_Staffy:_ He grew to be very dark and crabbed from the time of the father's death. His mind was on his halfpenny ever since.

_Delia: (Looking at dresser.)_ Spiders' webs heaped in ridges the same as windrows in a bleach of hay. What now is that there above on the upper shelf?

_Ralph: (Taking it from top shelf.)_ It is but a pack of cards.

_Staffy:_ They should maybe be the very same that brought him profit in his wild days. He always had a lucky hand.

_Delia: (Dusting them.)_ You would give your seven oaths the dust to have been gathering on them since the time of the Hebrews' Flood.

I'll tell you now a thing to do. We being here before him in the house, why wouldn't we ready it and put some sort of face upon it, the way he would be in humour with us coming in.

_Ralph:_ And the way he might incline to put into our hand some good promise or some gift.

_Delia: (Dusting.)_ I would wish no gift from any person at all, but that my mind is set at this time on a fleet of white goats and a guinea-hen are to be canted out from the Spanish woman at Lisatuwna cross by reason of the hanging gale.

_Staffy:_ That was the way with you, Delia, from the time you could look out from the half-door, to be coveting pictures and fooleries, that would shape themselves in your mind.

_Delia:_ There is no sin coveting things are of no great use or profit, but would show out good and have some grandeur around them.

Those goats now! Browsing on the blossoms of the bushes they would be, or the herbs that give out a sweet smell. Stir yourself, Staffy, and throw your eye on that turf beyond in the corner. It is that wet you could wring from it splashes and streams. Let you rise the ashes from the sods are on the hearth and redden them with a goosewing, if there is a goosewing to be found. There is no greater beauty to be met with than the leaping of a little yellow flame.

_Staffy:_ In my opinion there will no pay-day come for this work, but only a thank-you job; a County Clare payment, 'G.o.d spare you the health!'

_Delia:_ Let you do it, Ralph so. _(Takes potatoes from a sieve.)_ A roasted potato would be a nice thing to put before him, in the place of this old crust of a loaf. Put them in now around the sods, the way they will be crispy before him.

_Ralph: (Taking them.)_ And the way he will see you are a good housekeeper and will mind well anything he might think fit to give.

_Delia: (At clock.)_ I'll set to the right time of day the two hands of the clock are pointing a full hour before the sun. Take, Staffy, that pair of shoes and lessen from them the clay of the land.

That much of doing will not break your heart. He will be as proud as the fallen angels seeing the way we have all set out before him.

_(A harsh laugh is heard at inner door. They turn and see Damer watching them.)_

_Ralph:_ Glory be to G.o.d!

_Delia:_ It is Damer was within all the time!

_Staffy:_ What are you talking about, Delia? It is Patrick you were meaning to say.

_Damer:_ Let her go on prattling out Damer to my face, as it is often she called it behind my shoulders. Damer the chandler, the miser got the spoil of the Danes, that was mocked at since the time of the Danes. I know well herself and the world have me christened with that nickname.

_Ralph:_ Ah, it is not to dispraise you they put it on you, but to show you out so wealthy and so rich.

_Damer:_ I am thinking it is not love of my four bones brings you on this day under my thatch?

_Staffy:_ We heard tell you were after being destroyed with a jennet.

_Damer:_ Picking up newses and tidings of me ye do be. It is short the delay was on you coming.

_Delia:_ And I after travelling through the most of the day on the head of you being wounded and hurt, thinking you to be grieving to see one of your own! And I in dread of my life stealing past your wicked dog.

_Damer:_ My joy he is, scaring you with his bark! If it wasn't for him you would have me clogged and tormented, coming in and bothering me every whole minute.

_Delia:_ There is no person in Ireland only yourself but would have as much welcome for me to-day as on the first day ever they saw me!

_Damer:_ What's that you are doing with my broom?

_Delia:_ To do away with the spider's webs I did, where the shelves were looped with them and smothered. Look at all that came off of that pack of cards.

_Damer:_ What call had you to do away with them, and they belonging to myself? Is it to bleed to death I should and I to get a tip of a billhook or a slasher? You and your vagaries to have left me bare, that I would be without means to quench the blood, and it to rise up from my veins and to scatter on every side!

_Delia:_ Is it that you are without e'er a rag, and that ancient coat to be hanging on the wall?

_Damer:_ The place swept to flitters! What is that man of yours doing and he handling my turf?

_Ralph:_ It was herself thought to be serviceable to you, setting out the fuel that was full of dampness where it would get an air of the fire.

_Damer:_ To dry it is it? _(Seizes sods and takes them from the hearth.)_ And what length would it be without being burned and consumed and it not to be wet putting it on? _(Pours water over it.)_ And I after stacking it purposely in the corner where there does be a drip from the thatch.

_Ralph:_ She but thought it would be more answerable to you being dry.

_Damer:_ What way could I bear the expense of a fire on the hearth and it to leave smouldering and to break out into a blaze? A month's cutting maybe to go to ashes within three minutes, and into wisps of smoke. And the price of turf in this year gone wild out of measure, and it packed so roguish you could read the printed speeches on the paper through the sods you do be buying in the creel.

_Staffy:_ I was saying myself not to meddle with it. It is hurry is a worse friend than delay.

_Damer:_ Where did you get those spuds are roasting there upon the hearth?

_Ralph:_ Herself that brought them out from the sieve, thinking to make ready your meal.

_Damer:_ My seed potatoes! Samples I got from the guardians and asked in the shops and in stores till I'd gather enough to set a few ridges in the gardens would serve me through the length of the year!

_Delia:_ Let you be satisfied so with your mouldy bit of loaf.

_(Breaks a bit from it and hands it to him.)_

_Damer:_ Do not be breaking it so wasteful! The mice to have news there was as much as that of crumbs in the house, they would be running the same as chickens around the floor!

_Ralph:_ Thinking to be comfortable to you she was, the way you would make us welcome from this out.

_Damer:_ Which of ye is after meddling with my clock?

_Delia:_ It was a full hour before its time.

_Darner:_ It to be beyond its time, wouldn't that save fire and candles sending me to my bed early in the night? Leave down those boots! _(Takes them from Staffy.)_ Is it that you are wearing out the uppers with sc.r.a.ping at them and scratching! Is it to rob me ye are come into this place?

_Delia:_ I tell you we only came in getting word that you were done and dying.

_Damer:_ Ha! Is it to think I was dying ye did? Well, I am not. I am not so easy quenched. Strength and courage I have, to keep a fast grip of what I own.

_Delia:_ Let you not be talking that way! We are no grabbers and no thieves!