PATRICK. I’ll be as nice as ninepence at first. But if he doesn’t sign this house over to me this day I’ll give him and ould Daisy a wedding-present, by Mozes! [_Goes out the side-door to the yard._] JIM. Ma, what’s wrong? MRS. DEEGAN. Don’t bother me, son. JIM. My granda looks powerful stern. MRS. DEEGAN. Well, be you very glad to see him when he comes in, and remind him that you’re called for him. JIM. Heth, I will, ma. But if he doesn’t lay me the farm or gimme six hunnert pound, I’ll tell him another story some day! MRS. DEEGAN [_with energy_]. Here, listen to me. Take the wee bottle and sixpence, and tell the druggist to fill it for your ma.... And don’t let anybody see what you’re getting.... Just slip the wee bottle to the druggist. He’ll know what you want. JIM. All right, ma. [_Goes out quickly._] MRS. DEEGAN [_removes the tray_]. He’ll sign nothing over to Daisy Mullan this day if I can stop it!... The old viper--what does he want with a woman? _OLD DEEGAN comes in at the side door. He carries a whip and a rug, and is looking very spry._ DEEGAN. Well, how’s all here? MRS. DEEGAN [_fussing_]. Och, granda dear, and is this yourself! [_Shakes hands and laughs._] Upon my word, granda, you’re getting fresher looking every day. DEEGAN. I’m like the eagles, I’m renewing my youth. [_Lays down the whip and rug and sits down at the table._] MRS. DEEGAN. It’s nothing short of a miracle--at your great age. I suppose you’re hard on eighty, granda. DEEGAN. A man is just as old as he feels. I feel hard on twenty-five. _JIM rushes in, and slips the bottle to his mother._ JIM. Och, is this my wee granda! MRS. DEEGAN. Yes, you’ll be happy now. You’ve been wishing and wishing your granda would come in. JIM. Och, my dear granda! [_Hugs him._] My own dear granda that I’m called for. Amn’t I, granda? DEEGAN [_gives him a penny_]. There’s a penny for yourself. Go and buy liquorice-ball. JIM. Ah, thanks, granda. It takes yourself. [_Tries to kiss him._] You’ll lay me more than a penny some day. Won’t you, granda? DEEGAN. We’ll see. Go now and buy liquorice-ball. You’re getting too old for this baby-talk. JIM. It’s because I love my granda.... [_Goes out with hanging lip._] MRS. DEEGAN. You oughtn’t to cut him, granda. He’s that doted on you. DEEGAN. He’s like all the rest, he’s doted on my last will and testament. MRS. DEEGAN. May God forgive you, James Deegan, for thinking such a thing, let alone say it! DEEGAN [_shrugs_]. We won’t discuss it further.... Have you seen Daniel? MRS. DEEGAN. He’s about the house somewhere. DEEGAN. I suppose he has emptied his stomach? MRS. DEEGAN. Och, he was talking as usual, but I was busy and paid no attention. Poor Dan has always a long story about the cruel way you treat him.