that's the gate o glory, isn't it?

THE GRASSHOPPER [assenting]. X.X.

THE MAN. Sure it's the wise grasshopper yar to know that! But
tell me this, Misther Unworldly Wiseman: why does the sight of
Heaven wring your heart an mine as the sight of holy wather
wrings the heart o the divil? What wickedness have you done to
bring that curse on you? Here! where are you jumpin to? Where's
your manners to go skyrocketin like that out o the box in the
middle o your confession [he threatens it with his stick]?

THE GRASSHOPPER [penitently]. X.

THE MAN [lowering the stick]. I accept your apology; but don't do
it again. And now tell me one thing before I let you go home to
bed. Which would you say this counthry was: hell or purgatory?

THE GRASSHOPPER. X.

THE MAN. Hell! Faith I'm afraid you're right. I wondher what you
and me did when we were alive to get sent here.

THE GRASSHOPPER [shrilly]. X.X.

THE MAN [nodding]. Well, as you say, it's a delicate subject; and
I won't press it on you. Now off widja.

THE GRASSHOPPER. X.X. [It springs away].

THE MAN [waving his stick] God speed you! [He walks away past the
stone towards the brow of the hill. Immediately a young laborer,
his face distorted with terror, slips round from behind the
stone.

THE LABORER [crossing himself repeatedly]. Oh glory be to God!
glory be to God! Oh Holy Mother an all the saints! Oh murdher!
murdher! [Beside himself, calling Fadher Keegan! Fadher Keegan]!

THE MAN [turning]. Who's there? What's that? [He comes back and
finds the laborer, who clasps his knees] Patsy Farrell! What are
you doing here?

PATSY. O for the love o God don't lave me here wi dhe
grasshopper. I hard it spakin to you. Don't let it do me any
harm, Father darlint.

KEEGAN. Get up, you foolish man, get up. Are you afraid of a poor
insect because I pretended it was talking to me?

PATSY. Oh, it was no pretending, Fadher dear. Didn't it give
three cheers n say it was a divil out o hell? Oh say you'll see
me safe home, Fadher; n put a blessin on me or somethin [he moans
with terror].

KEEGAN. What were you doin there, Patsy, listnin? Were you spyin
on me?

PATSY. No, Fadher: on me oath an soul I wasn't: I was waitn to
meet Masther Larry n carry his luggage from the car; n I fell
asleep on the grass; n you woke me talkin to the grasshopper; n I
hard its wicked little voice. Oh, d'ye think I'll die before the
year's out, Fadher?

KEEGAN. For shame, Patsy! Is that your