Mother: Will you give attention, I say! It
will be worth while for you to go chat with me now
I can be telling you all that happened in my years
gone by. What was it Conan was questioning me
about a while ago? What was it now....
"Aristotle in the hour
He left Ireland left a power!"...
Timothy: That now is a very nice sort of a
little prayer.
Mother: (Calling out.) That's it! Aristotle's
Bellows! I know now what has happened. This
that is in my hand has in it the power to make
changes. Changes! Didn't great changes come in
the house to-day! (Shouts.) Did you see any great
change in Celia?
Timothy: Why wouldn't I, and she at this
minute fighting and barging at some poor travelling
man, saying he laid a finger mark of bacon-grease upon
the lintel of the door. Driving him off with a broken-toothed
rake she is, she that was so gentle that she
wouldn't hardly pluck the feathers of a dead duck!
Mother: It was surely a blast of this worked
that change in her, as the blast she blew upon me
worked a change in myself. O! all the thoughts
and memories that are thronging in my mind and
in my head! Rushing up within me the same as
chaff from the flail! Songs and stories and the
newses I heard through the whole course of my
lifetime! And I having no person to tell them out
to! Do you hear me what I'm saying, Timothy?
(Shouts in his ear.) What is come back to me is
what I lost so long ago, my MEMORY.
Timothy: So it is a very good song.
(Sings.)
"By Memory inspired, and love of glory fired,