BARTLEY. I'll do that. This is no safe place to be leaving it.
(_He takes up fork awkwardly and upsets the basket._) Look at that
now! If there is any basket in the fair upset, it must be our own
basket! (_He goes out to right._)

MRS. FALLON. Get out of that! It is your own fault, it is. Talk
of misfortunes and misfortunes will come. Glory be! Look at my
new egg-cups rolling in every part--and my two pound of sugar
with the paper broke--

MRS. TARPEY (_turning from stall_). God help us, Mrs. Fallon, what
happened your basket?

MRS. FALLON. It's himself that knocked it down, bad manners to
him. (_Putting things up_) My grand sugar that's destroyed, and
he'll not drink his tea without it. I had best go back to the
shop for more, much good may it do him!

(_Enter_ TIM CASEY.)

TIM CASEY. Where is Bartley Fallon, Mrs. Fallon? I want a word
with him before he'll leave the fair. I was afraid he might have
gone home by this, for he's a temperate man.

MRS. FALLON. I wish he did go home! It'd be best for me if he
went home straight from the fair green, or if he never came with
me at all! Where is he, is it? He's gone up the road (_jerks
elbow_) following Jack Smith with a hayfork.

(_She goes out to left._)