Feichin, Eoghan and Cuimin come up from the sea and they drying their hair.

CUIMIN.

What'll we play to-day?

COILIN.

`Blind Man's Buff!'

PADRAIC.

Ara, shut up, yourself and your `Blind Man's Buff.'

COILIN.

`High Gates,' then!

PADRAIC.

No. We're tired of those `High Gates.'

DARAGH.

`Hide and Seek!'

FEICHIN.

Away!

EOGHAN.

`Fox and Chickens'

COILIN.

No. We'll play ` Lúrabóg Lárabóg.'

PADRAIC.

I'll make a lúrabóg of you!

COILIN.

You do be always at me, Padraic. [(Padraic catches hold of him.)] Listen to me, will you?

CUIMIN.

Ara, listen to him, Padraic.

DARAGH.

Listen to him.

Padraic lets him go.

COILIN.

Speak yourself, Padraic, if you won't give leave to anyone else.

PADRAIC.

Let s jump!

EOGHAN.

Let's jump! Let's jump!

DARAGH.

I'll bet I'll beat you, Padraic.

PADRAIC.

At jumping, is it?

DARAGH.

Aye.

PADRAIC.

Didn't I beat you the day before yesterday at the School Rock?

DARAGH.

I'll bet you won't beat me to-day. Will you try?

PADRAIC.

I won't. My feet are sore. [(The other boys begin laughing; Padraic speaks with a shamed-face.)] I'd rather play ball.

EOGHAN.

Ball! Ball!

DARAGH.

Has anybody a ball?

CUIMIN.

And if they had, itself, where would we play?

PADRAIC.

Against Old Matthias's gable-end. There's no nicer place to be found.

COILIN.

Who has the ball?

CUIMIN.

My soul, I haven't it.

DARAGH.

No, nor I.

PADRAIC.

You yourself, Coilin, had it on Friday.

COILIN.

By my word, didn't the master grab it where I was hopping it in the school at Catechism?

FEICHIN.

True for you, lad.

CUIMIN.

My soul, but I thought he'd give you the rod that time.

COILIN.

He would, too, only he was expecting the priest to come in.

DARAGH.

It's the ball he wanted. He'll have a game with the peelers to-day after Mass.

PADRAIC.

My soul, but he will, and it's he can beat the peelers, too.

DARAGH.

He can't beat the sergeant. The sergeant's the best man of them all. He beat Hoskins and the red man together last Sunday.

FEICHIN.

Ara, stop! Did he beat them?

DARAGH.

He did, maise. The red man was raging, and the master and the peelers all laughing at him.

PADRAIC.

I bet the master will beat the sergeant.

DARAGH.

I'll bet he won't.

PADRAIC.

Do ye hear him?

DARAGH.

I'll bet the sergeant can beat any man in this country.

PADRAIC.

Ara, how do you know whether he can or not?

DARAGH.

I know well he can. Don't I be always watching them?

PADRAIC.

You don't know!

DARAGH.

I do know! It's I that know it!

They threaten each other. A quarrel arises among the boys, a share of them saying, `The sergeant's the best!' and others, `The master's best!' Old Matthias gets up to listen to them. He comes forward, twisted and bent in his body, and barely able to drag his feet along. He speaks to them quietly, laying his hand on Daragh's head.

MATTHIAS.

O! O! O! My shame ye are!

PADRAIC.

This fellow says the master can't beat the sergeant playing ball.

DARAGH.

By my word, wouldn't the sergeant beat anybody at all in this country, Matthias?

MATTHIAS.

Never mind the sergeant. Look at that lonesome wild goose that's making on us o'er Loch Ellery! Look!

All the boys look up.

PADRAIC.

I see it, by my soul!

DARAGH.

Where's she coming from, Matthias?

MATTHIAS.

From the Eastern World. I would say she has travelled a thousand miles since she left her nest in the lands to the north.

COILIN.

The poor thing. And where will she drop?

MATTHIAS.

To Aran she'll go, it's a chance. See her now out over the sea. My love you are, lonesome wild goose!

COILIN.

Tell us a story, Matthias.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 546