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minate. He has been working in the fields, and is dressed in trousers, shirt, and heavy boots. Anne Hourican is a pretty dark-haired girl of about nineteen.

James Moynihan rises.

Anne. And so you can't stay any longer, James?

James (with a certain solemnity). No, Anne. I told my father I'd be back while there was light, and I'm going back. (He goes to the rack, takes his coat, and puts it on him.) Come over to our house to-night, Anne. I'll be watching the girls coming in, and thinking on yourself; there's none of them your match for grace and favour. My father wanted me to see a girl in Arvach. She has three hundred pounds, besides what the priest, her uncle, will leave her. "Father," says I, "listen to me now. Haven't I always worked for you like a steady, useful boy?" "You have," says he. "Did I ever ask you for anything unreasonable?" says I. "No," says he. "Well then," says I, "don't ask me to do unreasonable things. I'm fond of Anne Hourican, and not another girl will I marry. What's money after all?" says I, "there's gold on the whin-bushes if you only knew it." And he had to leave it at that.

Anne. You always bring people around.

James. The quiet, reasonable way is the way that people like.

Anne. Still, with all, I'm shy of going into your house.