lendid tune.

_Davideen: (Sings.)_

Oh, don't you remember,
As it's often I told you,
As you passed through our kitchen,
That a new broom sweeps clean?
Come out now and buy one,
Come out now and try one--

_(His voice cracks, and he breaks off, laughing foolishly.)_

_Mrs. Broderick:_ He has a sweet note in his voice, but to know or
to understand what he is doing, he couldn't do it.

_Cracked Mary:_ Leave him a while. His song that does be clogged
through the daytime, the same as the sight is clogged with myself. It
isn't but in the night time I can see anything worth while. Davy is
a proper boy, a proper boy; let you leave Davy alone. It was himself
came before me ere yesterday in the morning, and I walking out the
madhouse door.

_Shawn Early:_ It is often there will fiddlers be waiting to play
for them coming out, that are maybe the finest dancers of the day.

_Cracked Mary:_ Waiting before me he was, and no one to give him
knowledge unless it might be the Big Man. I give you my word he near
ate the face off me. As glad to see me he was as if I had dropped
from heaven. Come hither to me, Davy, and give no heed to them. It
is as dull and as lagging as themselves you would be maybe, and the
world to be different and the moon to change its courses with the sun.

_Bartley Fallon:_ I never would wish to be put within a madhouse
before I'd die.

_Cracked Mary:_ Sorry they were losing me. There was not a better
prisoner in it than my own four bones.

_Bartley Fallon:_ Squeals you would hear from it, they were
telling me, like you'd hear at the ringing of the pigs. Savages with
whips beating them the same as hounds. You would not stand and
listen to them for a hundred sovereigns. Of all bad things that can
come upon a man, it is certain the madness is the last.

_Miss Joyce:_ It is likely she was well content in it, and the
friends she had being of her own class.

_Cracked Mary:_ What way could you make friends with people would
be always talking? Too much of talk and of noise there was in it,
cursing, and praying, and tormenting; some dancing, some singing,
and one writing a letter to a she devil called Lucifer. I not to
close my ears, I would have lost the sound of Davideen's song.

_Miss Joyce:_ It was good shelter you got in it through the bad
weather, and not to be out perishing under cold, the same as the
starlings in the snow.

_Cracked Mary:_ I was my seven months in it, my seven m