Celia: Only one thing wanting now.
Conan: I'm good enough, I tell you!
Celia: To cut the wisp from the back of your
poll.
Conan: You will not cut it!
Celia: And you'll go into the grandeurs of
Dublin and you being as neat as an egg.
Conan: (With a roar.) Leave meddling with
my hair. I that can change the world with one
turn of my hand!
Celia: Wait till I'll find the scissors! That's
not the way to be going showing off in the town,
if you were all the saints and Druids of the universe!
Conan: (Breaking free and rushing out.) My
seven thousand curses on the minute when I didn't
leave you as you were. (Goes.)
Celia: (Looking at Mother.) There's meal on
your dress from the cake you're after putting in
the oven—where now did that bellows fall from?
(Taking up bellows.) It comes as handy as a
gimlet. There (blows the meal off), that now will
make a big difference in you.
Rock: (Seizing bellows.) Leave now that down
out of your hand. Let you go looking for a
scissors!