BARTLEY FALLON
MRS. FALLON
JACK SMIT
SHAWN EARLY
TIM CASEY
JAMES RYAN
MRS. TARPEY
MRS. TULLY
JOE MULDOON, a policeman
A REMOVABLE MAGISTRATE
SCENE: _The outskirts of a Fair. An Apple Stall._ MRS. TARPEY
_sitting at it._ MAGISTRATE _and_ POLICEMAN _enter._
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 honor.
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.
BARTLEY. Maybe it's yourself will be buried in the graveyard of
Cloonmara before me, Mary Fallon, and I myself that will be dying
unbeknownst some night, and no one a-near me. And the cat itself
may be gone straying through the country, and the mice squealing
over the quilt.
MRS. FALLON. Leave off talking of dying. It might be twenty years
you'll be living yet.
BARTLEY (_with a deep sigh_). I'm thinking if I'll be living at the
end of twenty years, it's a very old man I'll be then!
MRS. TARPEY (_turns and sees them_). Good-morrow, Bartley Fallon;
good-morrow, Mrs. Fallon. Well, Bartley, you'll find no cause for
complaining to-day; they are all saying it was a good fair.
BARTLEY (_raising his voice_). It was not a good fair, Mrs. Tarpey.
It was a scattered sort of a fair. If we didn't expect more, we
got less. That's the way with me always: whatever I have to sell
goes down and whatever I have to buy goes up. If there's ever any
misfortune coming to this world, it's on myself it pitches, like
a flock of crows on seed potatoes.
MRS. FALLON. Leave off talking of misfortunes, and listen to Jack
Smith that is coming the way, and he singing.
(_Voice of JACK SMITH heard singing_)
I thought, my first love,
There'd be but one house between you and me.
And I thought I would find
Yourself coaxing my child on your knee.
Over the tide
I would leap with the leap of a swan.
Till I came to the side
Of the wife of the red-haired man!
(JACK SMITH _comes in; he is a red-haired man, and is carrying a
hayfork._)
MRS. TARPEY. That should be a good song if I had my hearing.