MRS. MULLIGAN. Time to be going, is it? Well, I should hope not. Sure, half of the children are not dry yet, and the other half are not dressed. Bridget Honora, darlin', look in the other room and see how they're coming on. (_Exit_ BRIDGET _at R._) MATSY. I think we ought to be there early, so as we can get a good seat on the front row. I don't want to miss nothing. (_Hangs up a boy's union suit._) MRS. MULLIGAN. True for you, Matsy, and I don't want yeez to be missing anything either. It ain't like as if yeez go to a fine Christmas entertainment ivery night of yer lives. (_Washes._) MATSY. It's the first one any of us ever went to at all, at all. Do yeez think they be after having moving pictures? MRS. MULLIGAN. Of course not. Not in a Sunday School, Matsy. But belike they'll have a fine, grand Christmas tree with singin' and spaches and fine costumes and prisints for every one. (_Calls off R._) Bridget Honora! BRIDGET (_off R._). Yes, maw? MRS. MULLIGAN. Come here. _Enter_ BRIDGET _from R._ BRIDGET. Melissa and Micky Machree have been scrubbed until they shine. They're sitting in the window drying in the sun. Mary Ann is cleaning Peter Pan in the lard bucket, and Patsy is washing Teddy Magee in the rain-barrel. Nora is curling Clarissa's hair with the poker, and somebody's untied the goat. MRS. MULLIGAN. Untied the goat, is it? Matsy Mulligan, put on yer hat at once and see what's become of Shamus O'Brien. He's a good goat, is Shamus, but he's like the late Mr. Mulligan, he has a rovin' disposition and a tremenjous appetite. Hurry now, Matsy. MATSY (_whining_). Aw, now, maw, I can't go and hunt the goat. I'm all dressed up for the entertainment. If I go after the goat, sure it's all mussed up I'll be. MRS. MULLIGAN. Yis, if I swat you one wid this wet cloth, it's worse than mussed up you'll be. Hurry after the goat. Niver a step does any Mulligan take from this house tonight until Shamus O'Brien is safe in the kitchen, wid his horns tied to the wash boiler. MATSY. Sure, I dunno where to look fer him. MRS. MULLIGAN. Go over to Mrs. O'Toole's cabbage garden; like as not ye'll find him there. Sure, Shamus has a fine appetite for cabbages. MATSY. Don't let 'em start afore I get back. I don't want to miss nothin'. (_Takes cap and exits L._) MRS. MULLIGAN. Now, Bridget Honora, lave off hanging up the clothes and go in and see if Melissa and Micky Machree are dry yet. And if they are call me in and I'll attend to their costumes. BRIDGET. Maw, Mary Ann's having an awful time. She's growed so that her skirt and her waist has parted company, and what she'll be after doing I don't know at all, at all. MRS. MULLIGAN. Is there anything she can use as a sash? BRIDGET. No'm. Nora and Clarissa have used up all the sashes.