MRS. S. Well, you won’t rest here! Go and take a holiday where you belong. Step out that door and never show your face again.... PROF. [_totters over and sits on table_]. I’m awful tired ... been travelling a deal lately.... MRS. S. [_exasperated_]. Will you step out--before I pitch you out the door? PROF. Pitch me out the door! You didn’t pitch me out the morning you married Johnny Scally ... when I laid a hundred pounds in your lap.... Why, bust you, ’twas that hundred gave you and Johnny a start. MRS. S. [_a little subdued_]. I’ll give you a few shillings and you’ll catch the first train. My family’s all grown up and you wouldn’t want to affront us. PROF. Affront you? I’m not going to affront anybody. I’m going to have a nice, quiet, respectable holiday along the moss edges.... Gum, I want to pick some white heather.... _JOHN, in black coat and hat, comes in, followed by KILROY. MRS. S. stands in front of PROF. to hide him._ KILROY. Where’s Joseph? PEGGY. He ran down the lane. Something happened the pony.... PROF. It’s turned turtle in a ditch.... KILROY. Dang it all! [_Runs out back._] PROF. [_pushing Mrs. S. aside_]. Stand away back! What are you crowding me up for? JOHN. Who the hedges is this, Briget? PROF. Hallo, Johnny! Gum, you stand the years like a brass button. Greetings. JOHN. By the holy, it’s the Professor! Lord save us, such a case! Such a wreck.... PROF. Don’t be so obvious, Johnny. A man don’t look his best after a long journey.... I’m tired.... JOHN. Ah, poor Tim.... MRS. S. Not another word, John.... JOHN. Ah, Briget, let me shake hands with him.... MRS. S. Silence! He’s going out of this. I’ll give him a few shillings and he’ll catch the first train away. He’ll not be here! PROF. You won’t gimme a few shillings, sister, and I won’t catch the first train away. I’m too glad to be here. I want a wash-up, and a good feed of spuds and cabbage, and about a week’s sleep. I’m tired.... MRS. S. [_grabs his arm_]. Come with me! I’ll show you what you’re going to get.... PROF. [_resists_]. Lemme go. I won’t budge.... MRS. S. Come here, John, and lend a hand. We’ll help him outside.... JOHN. I’d rather not, Briget.... MRS. S. Come on--when you’re told! Or I’ll smash him and you both. JOHN [_assists_]. Come now, Tim. Come, like a good fella. I wouldn’t hurt a hair of your head for the world.... PEGGY. Mother! mother! the Kilroys are coming in.... MRS. S. Come, John. Quick. We’ll keep them outside.... _MRS. S. and JOHN go out back._ PROF. Hallo, Peggy. Who did you say was coming? The poleece? PEGGY. Not at all. Two neighbours.