Rutherford Mayne

“ William John Granahan.
Look you here Samuel James.
Samuel James comes back nearer.
I've been worried wi' that boy this long time.
Samuel James nods approvingly.
I've made up my mind to-day after seein' yon scarecrow we met at Buckna cross roads, Robbie John aither mends himself or he goes out o' this.
Samuel James.
You're right Da. You hae stud his goings on a long time. I think ye do well to stop him. It's only doin' him a kindness.
William John Granahan.
I'll just ask him to burn it when he comes in. If he won't, he can just plaze himself. I'll hae no more to do wi' him. ”

“ Ellen.
Oh, let the boy be, mother. Its the first time I've heard him at it this week.
Grandfather.
Och aye. Let the boy enjoy himself. You're only young wanst you know, Mary.
Ellen.
I think it must be a great thing to be a great musician. Sometimes I believe Robbie should try his luck with that fiddle of his. Somehow I know—I feel he is a genius at it.
Mrs. Granahan.
What notions you do have to be sure. To think of a big grown man like Robbie John spending his life-time at an old fiddle.
Sharply.
Blathers and nonsense. Its time that boy was out lookin' at the cattle. ”

“ God made you a musician and not a farmer.
Robbie John.
And you? What would you do?
Jane.
I know and trust some day God willing, you'll come back to me, rich and famous enough to have them all at your feet. I know you will.
Robbie John.
God bless you wee girl for you're put a heart into me.
They embrace. Mrs. Granahan comes in.
Mrs. Granahan.
There. There. Bide a wee. Here they're all coming in for their tays.
William John Granahan, Graeme, Taylor, Samuel James and Grandfather come in. Robbie John goes over to fiddle and puts it into a case. ”

“ Robbie John.
Aye and when its hangin' there dumb its speakin' to me, callin' to me. Don't think I'm mad Jane but I can't stand it much longer. What makes them hang it there to temp' me? Why? Just because they think they can make a few miserable pounds, they'll keep it there makin' me a liar, a pledge breaker, a man who can't keep his promise. I'll end it now. I'll smash it.
He makes to take the fiddle out of her hands. ”

“ Aye Robbie. Its far better not to run the risk of becoming a beggar man.
Robbie John.
Well I'll think over it Ellen. I'll think over it.
Grandfather.
Robbie, come out wi' me.
The two go out by door into yard.
William John and Mrs. Granahan come in arguing excitedly.
[Pg 25]
Mrs. Granahan.
Well you can ha'e the poun' if you like, but I can tell you its a sore pinch to make things do, what with the price of the sugar riz up and the flour.
Samuel James comes in. He takes in the situation and seats himself again on the table near Ellen who remains still seated beside it.
William John Granahan. ”

“ I advise ye—of coorse its hard to know.
Grandfather.
Looking angrily at Samuel James.
Don't think o' that Robbie. Sure every man that plays a fiddle, thinks he's a genius. Don't be led astray son.
[Pg 34]
William John Granahan.
Coaxingly.
Aye. Your grand-da has sense wi' him Robbie. After all what about it. Man there's that bonny wee lass waitin' for you over at Graemes. To the fire wi' it.
Robbie John hesitates. The grandfather pats him approvingly. With bowed head he goes forward to place it on the fire. ”

“ Who was it left ye home from John Graeme's temperance lecture?
Ellen.
Slily.
That's a secret.
Mrs. Granahan.
Knowingly.
Not till me. He's a brave body anyway.
Ellen.
Who?
Mrs. Granahan.
Now you're the soft lassie. Who's the manager of the creamery up beyont?
Ellen.
Unsuspectingly,
Tom Taylor of course.
Mrs. Granahan.
And of coorse it was Tom Taylor left ye home.
Knock at the door.
Come in. Come in.
Taylor enters.
Why speak o' the divil—how d'ye do Mr. Taylor.
Taylor.
He comes in, stands rather awkwardly looking at Ellen, and then goes over near them.
Very well, thank you, ma'am.
Mrs. Granahan. ”

“ William John Granahan.
It makes you negleck your work. It makes you think o' things you shouldn't think o'. It makes you loss slape o' nights sitting up an playin' and then you can't rise in the mornin'. When you should be polissin the harness, or mendin' a ditch, or watchin' the cattle, or feedin' the poultry, you've got this thing in your hand and practisin' on it.
Robbie John. ”

“ A nice house this is, where a man couldn't get keepin' as much as would buy him an ounce o' tobaccy.
Viciously.
Man I do hate this hypockerisy.
Mrs. Granahan.
I'll not talk any more till ye, William Granahan. You're full o' drink and bad tongued.
William John Granahan.
If you say any more till me, I'll smash all the crockery in the house.
Mrs. Granahan.
Come out Ellen to the creamery and maybe when we come in, he'll be a bit cooler in the head.
She hurries out followed by Ellen through door to yard.
William John Granahan.
To Samuel James.
She's a tarr'ble woman your mother when she's started. ”

“ Now, don't you be startin' to talk that way. It's always the way with them dailers. Muddle the good man's head with whiskey, and then do him.
Ellen.
Standing nonchalantly at table facing front with hands resting on it.
They'll not muddle father much I'm thinkin'. Besides, Samuel James is with him.
Grandfather.
Samuel James is a cunnin' rascal.
Mrs. Granahan.
Don't you miscall my son Mr. Granahan. He's a canny good son and works hard, and is worth more than half-a-dozen men like Robbie John. They'll no put their finger in his eye. ”

“ But twelve shillin'! Would three shillin' no' do?
Samuel James.
No. It won't. Either give me the twelve shillin' or I'll tell her about your conduck—
[Pg 28]
William John Granahan.
There. There it is an bad scran to ye. To think o' me walkin' ten mile to the fair and back and arguin' wi' dailers and chates of all kinds and gettin thirty poun' for a baste I wouldn't buy myself for thirty shillin' and only gettin' eight shillin' out o' it.
Samuel James.
Whistling and counting money delightedly.
Aye. Its a hard world and no mistake. ”

“ She's anxious about the cattle.
Robbie John.
But, Ellen, look here. Any time I can get to have just a tune on that fiddle, someone's sure to take me away from it. Father sends me out to mend gaps that were mended, or cut turf that was cut, or fodder horses that were foddered. And when he's away and I might have some chance, mother does the same. Here I've been workin' for the past week, day in and day out, and the very first chance I get, I must run after the cattle or somethin'. ”

“ Robbie John.
Och, he's a cross ould cratur. Sure, she had only one foot through the hedge when he turned her.
He sees mother is getting impatient.
All right; I'm away.
He goes back into room, leaves fiddle there, comes into kitchen again and goes out by door to yard.
Mrs. Granahan.
He's as ill to drive as the ould mare to meetin' a Sundays.
She goes and looks through door into room.
Look at the time it is and your father and Samuel James niver back yet Ellen. They're terrible late o' comin'.
Ellen. ”

“ I wonner if they got that foal red off their hands yet. It'll be a job I'm thinkin'. He was a miserable baste, and tarr'ble broken in the wind.
Ellen.
Och, trust father to make that all right. I heard Mr. Taylor, of the creamery, say that father could sell you skim milk for cream, better than any man he knew.
Mrs. Granahan.
Seating herself at chair beside table at back.
Oh, aye. It's easy for him to talk, but money's hard o' makin', and if people's soft it's their own fault. Only I hope they've no' taken any drink.
Grandfather.
It's no fault in a good man if he does take a half-un. ”

“ Robbie John.
Aye. What is it?
Grandfather.
Take heed till yourself. I know what's going on better nor you. Take an ould man's advice. Settle yourself down and give up that string instrument. Coorse I daresay you may go and become a great man wi' it but you're more like to become a cratur like thon that was in as not. There's no good runnin' risks. And your father, I heerd him say himself, if you make your bed, you'll lie on it, for he'll nivir help you out, once you take to the fiddlin'.
Ellen. ”

“ Well my mother was a daughter o' Samuel James Smith, and a niece o' Robert John Francis Fargison.
John Graeme.
Contemptuously.
I nivir heerd tell o' them.
William John Granahan.
I wonner at your ignorance John Grame. A well educated man like yourself as sets yourself up to be taching [Pg 58] the congregation on matters o' law and the temperance question, (raising voice) and you that ignorant o' common information.
Mrs. Granahan.
Opening door and coming in a few steps.
William John Granahan, didn't I tell ye not to be raisin' argyments. How you manage at the markets I nivir could understand. ”

“ That's one thing I can't get over. Was it in a public house ye met him?
William John Granahan.
There. There. Thats enough to do about it. I hear enough about drinkin' from John Graeme every session day without you etarnally at it.
Robbie John and Grandfather enter. They evidently understand from the looks of those present that something important is talked of.
[Pg 32]
Where's that fiddle of yours Robbie John? Bring it to me.
Robbie John looks curiously at him and then at Samuel James. He goes into room and brings it out. He holds it in his hands and looks suspiciously at the father. ”

“ Boys a dear but William John Granahan bates the divil. And who took her?
Samuel James.
There was a cavalryman bought her. Boys but Da is the hard man to plaze. We stopped at Muc Alanan's on the way home and met William John McKillop there, and he toul' the oul' man he was a fool to let a good horse go at that price, for he was lookin' all roads to give him thirty poun' for it ”

“ The significance, the pathos, and inherent beauty of the concluding scene is a piece of consummate art.—Belfast Newsletter.
The author ... builds his scenes out of simple materials but always with the eye of a craftsman for striking effects and incidents.... The "Return from Market," "The Marriage Bargain," and the last scene ... have the illusion of life, and are in a phrase—which, though blunted by misuse, expresses a real need in Irish Art—"racy of the soil"—The Northern Whig. ”

“ John Graeme.
You've heerd what I ha'e to say. Take it or lave it. You can plaze yourself.
William John Granahan.
Five hunnert poun'. It's a tarr'ble price. Would two hunnert no' do? You see I ha'e Samuel James and Ellen to provide for.
John Graeme.
A Graeme o' Killainey weds no man unner five hunnert poun', William Granahan. Mind that. I want my daughter married to no beggarman.
William John Granahan.
Excitedly.
Beggarman! Beggarman, did ye say? Hats, John Graeme, I think ye should be proud o' wan o' yours [Pg 57] marryin' a Granahan. Money or no money, that's a nice way o' talkin'. ”

“ Na. Na. Its a vallible fiddle.
Robbie John.
It is. Ach man but it does temp' me sorely.
Samuel James.
Aye. You might make a fortune, the dear knows. Man I know what I would do if I could play like you do.
Sarcastically.
That was if ye had the heart.
Robbie John.
Excited.
Ach quit! Quit talkin' to me that way. I'm going out.
Goes out by door at back.
Samuel James.
Getting off seat and standing about centre of room.
He'll take to it yet.
He goes over nearer fireplace.
I can see it workin' in him. Sure his hands are tremblin' and his fingers twitchin' all the times he's lookin' at it. ”

“ It is a play that transports the hedge rows, the farm kitchen with its dresser and turf fire, and above all the real vernacular right into our preception more vividly than an experience. The author has written a remarkable fine play of life, humour, and realism.—Nomad's Weekly and Belfast Critic.
Into the brief compass of his two acts Mr. Rutherford Mayne has compressed the age-long attitude of Ulster towards the arts.... Light is breaking after the long Arctic night. ”