SUSAN. And I run up with a pat of butter, for it'd be a poor thing to have
you eating your spuds dry, and you after running a great way since you did
destroy your da.

CHRISTY. Thank you kindly.

HONOR. And I brought you a little cut of cake, for you should have a thin
stomach on you, and you that length walking the world.

NELLY. And I brought you a little laying pullet -- boiled and all she is --
was crushed at the fall of night by the curate's car. Feel the fat of that
breast, Mister.

CHRISTY. It's bursting, surely. [He feels it with the back of his hand,in
which he holds the presents.]

SARA. Will you pinch it? Is your right hand too sacred for to use at all?
(She slips round behind him.) It's a glass he has. Well, I never seen to
this day a man with a looking-glass held to his back. Them that kills their
fathers is a vain lot surely. [Girls giggle.]

CHRISTY -- [smiling innocently and piling presents on glass.] -- I'm very
thankful to you all to-day . . .

WIDOW QUIN -- [coming in quickly, at door.] -- Sara Tansey, Susan Brady, Honor
Blake! What in glory has you here at this hour of day?

GIRLS -- [giggling.] That's the man killed his father.

WIDOW QUIN -- [coming to them.] -- I know well it's the man; and I'm after