HONOR McBRIDE, alone.Honor. Phil!--(calls)--Phil, dear! come out.Phil.--(answers from within) Wait till I draw on my boots!Honor. Oh, I may give it up: he's full of his new boots--and singing, see!Enter PHIL McBRIDE, dressed in the height of the Irish buck-farmer fashion, singing,
"Oh the boy of Ball'navogue!Oh the dasher! oh the rogue!He's the thing! and he's the prideOf town and country, Phil McBride--All the talk of shoe and brogue!Oh the boy of Ball'navogue!"
There's a song to the praise and glory of your--of your brother, Honor! And who made it,do you think, girl?Honor. Miss Caroline Flaherty, no doubt. But, dear Phil, I've a favour to ask of you.Phil. And welcome! What? But first, see! isn't there an elegant pair of boots, that fits aleg like wax?--There's what'll plase Car'line Flaherty, I'll engage. But what ails you,Honor?--you look as if your own heart was like to break. Are not you for the fair to-day?--and why not?Honor. Oh! rasons. (Aside) Now I can't speak.Phil. Speak on, for I'm dumb and all ear--speak up, dear--no fear of the father's comingout, for he's leaving his bird (i.e. beard) in the bason, and that's a work of time with him.--Tell all to your own Phil.Honor. Why then I won't go to the fair--because--better keep myself to myself, out of theway of meeting them that mightn't be too plasing to my father.Phil. And might be too plasing to somebody else--Honor McBride.Honor. Oh, Phil, dear! But only promise me, brother, dearest, if you would this day meetany of the Rooneys--Phil. That means Randal Rooney.