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with a table in front of it. There is a door leading to the open air at the back, and another door a little to its left, leading into an inner room. There is a window, a settle, and a large dresser on the right side of the room, and a great bowl of primroses on the sill of the window._ MAURTEEN BRUIN, FATHER HART; and_ BRIDGET BRUIN _are sitting at the table._ SHAWN BRUIN is setting the table for supper._ MAIRE BRUIN _sits on the settle reading a yellow manuscript._

BRIDGET BRUIN.

Because I bade her go and feed the calves,
She took that old book down out of the thatch
And has been doubled over it all day.
We would be deafened by her groans and moans
Had she to work as some do, Father Hart,
Get up at dawn like me, and mend and scour;
Or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you,
The pyx and blessed bread under your arm.

SHAWN BRUIN.

You are too cross.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

The young side with the young.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

She quarrels with my wife a bit at times,
And is too deep just now in the old book;
But do not blame her greatly; she will grow
As quiet as a puff-ball in a tree
When but the moons of marriage dawn and die
For half a score of times.

FATHER HART

Their hearts are wild
As be the hearts of birds, till children come.

BRIDGET BRUIN.

She would not mind the griddle, milk the cow,
Or even lay the knives and spread the cloth.

FATHER HART.

I never saw her read a book before:
What may it be?

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

I do not rightly know:
It has been in the thatch for fifty years.
My father told me my grandfather wrote it,
Killed a red heifer and bound it with the hide.
But draw your chair this way--supper is spread;
And little good he got out of the book,
Because it filled his house with

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