up churches to the Lord? No man isn't a madman, I'm thinking,
would be talking the like of that, and wishing to be closed up
and seeing no sight of the grand glittering seas, and the furze
that is opening above, and will soon have the hills shining as if
it was fine creels of gold they were, rising to the sky.

MARTIN DOUL. Is it talking now you are of Knock and Ballavore?
Ah, it's ourselves had finer sights than the like of them, I'm
telling you, when we were sitting a while back hearing the birds
and bees humming in every weed of the ditch, or when we'd be
smelling the sweet, beautiful smell does be rising in the warm
nights, when you do hear the swift flying things racing in the
air, till we'd be looking up in our own minds into a grand sky,
and seeing lakes, and big rivers, and fine hills for taking the
plough.

SAINT -- [to People.] -- There's little use talking with the like
of him.

MOLLY BYRNE. It's lazy he is, holy father, and not wanting to
work; for a while before you had him cured he was always talking,
and wishing, and longing for his sight.

MARTIN DOUL -- [turning on her.] -- I was longing, surely for
sight; but I seen my fill in a short while with the look of my
wife, and the look of yourself, Molly Byrne, when you'd the queer
wicked grin in your eyes you do have the time you're making game
with a man.

MOLLY BYRNE. Let you not mind him, holy father; for it's bad