_Magistrate_: So that is the Fair Green. Cattle and sheep and mud. No system. What a repulsive sight! _Policeman_: That is so, indeed. _Magistrate_: I suppose there is a good deal of disorder in this place? _Policeman_: There is. _Magistrate_: Common assault? _Policeman_: It’s common enough. _Magistrate_: Agrarian crime, no doubt? _Policeman_: That is so. _Magistrate_: Boycotting? Maiming of cattle? Firing into houses? _Policeman_: There was one time, and there might be again. _Magistrate_: That is bad. Does it go any farther than that? _Policeman_: Far enough, indeed. _Magistrate:_ Homicide, then! This district has been shamefully neglected! I will change all that. When I was in the Andaman Islands, my system never failed. Yes, yes, I will change all that. What has that woman on her stall? _Policeman:_ Apples mostly—and sweets. _Magistrate:_ Just see if there are any unlicensed goods underneath—spirits or the like. We had evasions of the salt tax in the Andaman Islands. _Policeman:_ (_Sniffing cautiously and upsetting a heap of apples._) I see no spirits here—or salt. _Magistrate:_ (_To Mrs. Tarpey._) Do you know this town well, my good woman? _Mrs. Tarpey:_ (_Holding out some apples._) A penny the half-dozen, your honour. _Policeman:_ (_Shouting._) The gentleman is asking do you know the town! He’s the new magistrate! _Mrs. Tarpey:_ (_Rising and ducking._) Do I know the town? I do, to be sure. _Magistrate:_ (_Shouting._) What is its chief business? _Mrs. Tarpey:_ Business, is it? What business would the people here have but to be minding one another’s business? _Magistrate:_ I mean what trade have they? _Mrs. Tarpey:_ Not a trade. No trade at all but to be talking. _Magistrate:_ I shall learn nothing here. (_James Ryan comes in, pipe in mouth. Seeing Magistrate he retreats quickly, taking pipe from mouth._) _Magistrate:_ The smoke from that man’s pipe had a greenish look; he may be growing unlicensed tobacco at home. I wish I had brought my telescope to this district. Come to the post-office, I will telegraph for it. I found it very useful in the Andaman Islands. (_Magistrate and Policeman go out left._) _Mrs. Tarpey:_ Bad luck to Jo Muldoon, knocking my apples this way and that way. (_Begins arranging them._) Showing off he was to the new magistrate. (_Enter Bartley Fallon and Mrs. Fallon._) _Bartley:_ Indeed it’s a poor country and a scarce country to be living in. But I’m thinking if I went to America it’s long ago the day I’d be dead! _Mrs. Fallon:_ So you might, indeed. (_She puts her basket on a barrel and begins putting parcels in it, taking them from under her cloak._) _Bartley:_ And it’s a great expense for a poor man to be buried in America. _Mrs. Fallon:_ Never fear, Bartley Fallon, but I’ll give you a good burying the day you’ll die.