clothes on the hedge she is, and she daren't leave them, with all
the tinkers that do be passing to the fair. It isn't to the fair
I came myself, but up to the Five-Acre Meadow I'm going, where I
have a contract for the hay. We'll get a share of it into tramps
to-day.

(_He lays down hayfork and lights his pipe._)

BARTLEY. You will not get it into tramps to-day. The rain will be
down on it by evening, and on myself too. It's seldom I ever
started on a journey but the rain would come down on me before
I'd find any place of shelter.

JACK SMITH. If it didn't itself, Bartley, it is my belief you
would carry a leaky pail on your head in place of a hat, the way
you'd not be without some cause of complaining.

(_A voice heard: "Go on, now, go on out o' that. Go on, I say."_)

JACK SMITH. Look at that young mare of Pat Ryan's that is backing
into Shaughnessy's bullocks with the dint of the crowd! Don't be
daunted, Pat, I'll give you a hand with her. (_He goes out,
leaving his hayfork._)

MRS. FALLON. It's time for ourselves to be going home. I have all
I bought put in the basket. Look at there, Jack Smith's hayfork
he left after him! He'll be wanting it. (_Calls_) Jack Smith! Jack
Smith!--He's gone through the crowd; hurry after him, Bartley,
he'll be wanting it.