my tin can of
water!

_Taig: (Holding can from him.)_ Get out I tell you! I wouldn't
wish him to feel the smell of you on the breeze.

_Darby: (Almost crying.)_ You are a mean savage to go keeping from
me my tin can and my rag!

_Taig:_ Go wash yourself at the pump can't you?

_Darby:_ That we may never be within the same four walls again, or
come under the lintel of the one door! _(He goes out.)_

_Taig: (Calling after him while he takes a suit of clothes from
his bag.)_ I'm not like yourself! I have good clothes to put on me,
what you haven't got! A body-coat my mother made out--she lost up to
three shillings on it,--and a hat--and a speckled blue cravat.
_(He hastily throws off his sweep's smock and cap, and puts on
clothes. As he does he sings:)_

All round my hat I wore a green ribbon,
All round my hat for a year and a day;
And if any one asks me the reason I wore it
I'll say that my true love went over the sea!

All in my hat I will stick a blue feather
The same as the birds do be up in the tree;
And if you would ask me the reason I do it
I'll tell you my true love is come back to me!

_(He washes his face and wipes it, looking at himself in the tin
can. He catches sight of a straw hat passing window.)_

Who is that? A gentleman? _(He draws back.)_

_(Darby comes in. He has changed his clothes and wears a straw hat
and light coat and trousers. He is looking for a necktie which he
had dropped and picks up. His back is turned to Taig who is standing
at the other door.)_

_Taig: (Awed.)_ It cannot be that you are Dermot Melody?

_Darby:_ My father's name was Melody sure enough, till he lost his
life in the year of the black potatoes.

_Taig:_ It is yourself I am come here purposely to meet with.

_Darby:_ You should be my mother's sister's son so, Timothy
O'Harragha.

_Taig: (Sheepishly.)_ I am that. I am sorry indeed it
failed me to be out before you in the street.

_Darby:_ Oh, I wouldn't be looking for that much from you.

_(They are trying to keep their backs to each other, and to rub
their faces cleaner.)_

_Taig:_ I wouldn't wish to be anyway troublesome to you. I am
badly worthy of you.

_Darby:_ It is in dread I am of being troublesome to yourself.

_Taig:_ Oh, it would be hard for _you_ to be that. Nothing you
could put on me would be any hardship at all, if it was to walk
steel thistles.

_Darby:_ You have a willing heart surely.

_