ld. [More cheering.]

MAHON -- [going to window.] It'd split my heart to hear them, and I with
pulses in my brain-pan for a week gone by. Is it racing they are?

JIMMY -- [looking from door.] -- It is then. They are mounting him for
the mule race will be run upon the sands. That's the playboy on the
winkered mule.

MAHON [puzzled.] That lad, is it? If you said it was a fool he was,
I'd have laid a mighty oath he was the likeness of my wandering son
(uneasily, putting his hand to his head.) Faith, I'm thinking I'll go
walking for to view the race.

WIDOW QUIN -- [stopping him, sharply.] -- You will not. You'd best take
the road to Belmullet, and not be dilly-dallying in this place where
there isn't a spot you could sleep.

PHILLY -- [coming forward.] -- Don't mind her. Mount there on the bench
and you'll have a view of the whole. They're hurrying before the tide
will rise, and it'd be near over if you went down the pathway through
the crags below.

MAHON [mounts on bench, Widow Quin beside him.] -- That's a right view
again the edge of the sea. They're coming now from the point. He's
leading. Who is he at all?

WIDOW QUIN. He's the champion of the world, I tell you, and there isn't
a hop'orth isn't falling lucky to his hands to-day.

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 an