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forward, and a look of venomous dignity on his face, he marches out.
    The Covey    ( at counter ) Give us a glass o’ malt, for God’s sake, till I stimulate meself from th’ shock o’ seein’ th’ sight that’s afther goin’ out!
    Rosie    ( all business, coming over to the counter, and standing near the Covey ) Another one for me, Tommy; ( to the Barman ) th’ young gentleman’s ordherin’ it in th’ corner of his eye.
    The Barman brings the drink for the Covey, and leaves it on the counter. Rosie whips it up.
    Barman    Ay, houl’ on there, houl’ on there, Rosie!
    Rosie    ( to the Barman ) What are you houldin’ on out o’ you for? Didn’t you hear th’ young gentleman say that he couldn’t refuse anything to a nice little bird? ( To the Covey ) Isn’t that right, Jiggs? ( The Covey says nothing .) Didn’t I know, Tommy, it would be all right? It takes Rosie to size a young man up, an’ tell th’ thoughts that are thremblin’ in his mind. Isn’t that right, Jiggs?
    The Covey stirs uneasily, moves a little farther away, and pulls his cap over his eyes.
    ( Moving after him ) Great meetin’ that’s gettin’ held outside. Well, it’s up to us all, anyway, to fight for our freedom.
    The Covey    ( to Barman ) Two more, please. ( To Rosie ) Freedom! What’s th’ use o’ freedom, if it’s not economic freedom?
    Rosie    ( emphasizing with extended arm and moving finger ) I used them very words just before you come in. ‘A lot o’ thricksters,’ says I, ‘that wouldn’t know what freedom was if they got it from their mother.’ … ( To Barman ) Didn’t I, Tommy?
    Barman    I disremember.
    Rosie    No, you don’t disremember. Remember you said, yourself, it was all ‘only a flash in th’ pan’. Well, ‘flash in th’ pan, or no flash in th’ pan,’ says I, ‘they’re not goin’ to get Rosie Redmond,’ says I, ‘to fight for freedom that wouldn’t be worth winnin’ in a raffle!’
    The Covey    There’s only one freedom for th’ workin’ man: conthrol o’ th’ means o’ production, rates of exchange, an’ th’ means of disthribution. ( Tapping Rosie on the shoulder ) Look here, comrade, I’ll leave here tomorrow night for you a copy of Jenersky’s Thesis on the Origin, Development, an’ Consolidation of the Evolutionary Idea of the Proletariat.
    Rosie    ( throwing off her shawl on to the counter, and showing an exemplified glad neck, which reveals a good deal of a white bosom ) If y’ass Rosie, it’s heartbreakin’ to see a young fella thinkin’ of anything, or admirin’ anything, but silk thransparent stockin’s showin’ off the shape of a little lassie’s legs!
    The Covey, frightened, moves a little away.
    ( Following on ) Out in th’ park in th’ shade of a warm summery evenin’, with your little darlin’ bridie to be, kissin’ an’ cuddlin’ ( she tries to put her arm around his neck ), kissin’ an’ cuddlin’, ay?
    The Covey    ( frightened ) Ay, what are you doin’? None o’ that, now; none o’ that. I’ve something else to do besides shinannickin’ afther Judies!
    He turns away, but Rosie follows, keeping face to face with him.
    Rosie    Oh, little duckey, oh, shy little duckey! Never held a mot’s hand, an’ wouldn’t know how to tittle a little Judy! ( She clips him under the chin.) Tittle him undher th’ chin, tittle him undher th’ chin!
    The Covey    ( breaking away and running out ) Ay, go on, now; I don’t want to have any meddlin’ with a lassie like you!
    Rosie    ( enraged ) Jasus, it’s in a monasthery some of us ought to be, spendin’ our holidays kneelin’ on our adorers, tellin’ our beads, an’ knockin’ hell out of our buzzums!
    The Covey    ( outside ) Cuckoo-oo!
    Peter and Fluther come in again, followed by Mrs Gogan, carrying a baby in her arms. They go over to the counter.
    Peter    ( with plaintive anger ) It’s terrible that young Covey can’t let me pass without