CONN
Your grandmother did that as she did everything else.
ANNE
_(to Brian)_ Now, Brian, what would you do with a man that
would say the like?
_Anne goes outside._
CONN
_(to Brian)_ It's small blame to the girl here for thinking
something of the place; but I saw the time, Brian MacConnell, when I
could make more playing at one fair than working a whole season in
this bit of a place.
BRIAN
Girls like the shelter, Conn.
CONN
Ay, but the road for the fiddler. I'm five years settled here,
and I come to be as well known as the begging ass, and there is as
much thought about me. Fiddling, let me tell you, isn't like a boy's
whistling. It can't be kept up on nothing.
BRIAN
I understand that, Conn.
CONN
I'm getting that I can't stand the talk you hear in houses,
wars and Parliaments, and the devil knows what _ramais_.
BRIAN
There's still a welcome for the man of art, somewhere.
CONN
That somewhere's getting further and further away, Brian.
BRIAN
You were not in the town last night?
CONN
I was not, Brian. God help me, I spent the night my lone.
BRIAN
There's Sligomen in the town.
CONN
Is there, now? It would be like our times to play for them.
_(Anne comes in with some peat)_ Anne, would you bring me down my
spectacles? They're in the room, daughter. _(Anne goes to room. Conn
turns to Brian eagerly) I_ suppose the Sligomen will be in Flynn's.
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