as your arm. He was a horrid man, I'm telling you, and there was many a fine
Sunday I'd put him together for fun, and he with shiny bones, you wouldn't
meet the like of these days in the cities of the world.

MAHON -- [getting up.] -- You wouldn't is it? Lay your eyes on that skull,
and tell me where and when there was another the like of it, is splintered
only from the blow of a loy.

PHILLY. Glory be to God! And who hit you at all?

MAHON -- [triumphantly.] It was my own son hit me. Would you believe that?

JIMMY. Well, there's wonders hidden in the heart of man!

PHILLY -- [suspiciously.] And what way was it done?

MAHON -- [wandering about the room.] -- I'm after walking hundreds and long
scores of miles, winning clean beds and the fill of my belly four times in the
day, and I doing nothing but telling stories of that naked truth. (He comes to
them a little aggressively.) Give me a supeen and I'll tell you now. [Widow
Quin comes in and stands aghast behind him. He is facing Jimmy and Philly,
who are on the left.]

JIMMY. Ask herself beyond. She's the stuff hidden in her shawl.

WIDOW QUIN -- [coming to Mahon quickly.] -- you here, is it? You didn't go
far at all?

MAHON. I seen the coasting steamer passing, and I got a drought upon me and a
cramping leg, so I said, "The divil go along with him," and turned again.