PHILLY -- [looking out, interested in the race.] -- Look at that. They're
pressing him now.
JIMMY. He'll win it yet.
PHILLY. Take your time, Jimmy Farrell. It's too soon to say.
WIDOW QUIN -- [shouting.] Watch him taking the gate. There's riding.
JIMMY -- [cheering.] More power to the young lad!
MAHON. He's passing the third.
JIMMY. He'll lick them yet!
WIDOW QUIN. He'd lick them if he was running races with a score itself.
MAHON. Look at the mule he has, kicking the stars.
WIDOW QUIN. There was a lep! (catching hold of Mahon in her excitement.) He's
fallen! He's mounted again! Faith, he's passing them all!
JIMMY. Look at him skelping her!
PHILLY. And the mountain girls hooshing him on!
JIMMY. It's the last turn! The post's cleared for them now!
MAHON. Look at the narrow place. He'll be into the bogs! (With a yell.)
Good rider! He's through it again!
JIMMY. He neck and neck!
MAHON. Good boy to him! Flames, but he's in! [Great cheering, in which all
join.]
MAHON [with hesitation.] What's that? They're raising him up. They're
coming this way. (With a roar of rage and astonishment.) It's Christy! by
the stars of God! I'd know his way of spitting and he astride the moon. [He
jumps down and makes for the door, but Widow Quin catches him and pulls him
back.]
WIDOW QUIN. Stay quiet, will you. That's not your son. (To Jimmy.) Stop
him, or you'll get a month for the abetting of manslaughter and be fined as
well.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72