CORNELIUS. The hwat!

DORAN. Nobody plays bats ball here, if dhat's what you mean.

BROADBENT. Well, let us say quoits. I saw two men, I think, last
night--but after all, these are questions of detail. The main
thing is that your candidate, whoever he may be, shall be a man
of some means, able to help the locality instead of burdening it.
And if he were a countryman of my own, the moral effect on the
House of Commons would be immense! tremendous! Pardon my saying
these few words: nobody feels their impertinence more than I do.
Good morning, gentlemen.

He turns impressively to the gate, and trots away, congratulating
himself,, with a little twist of his head and cock of his eye, on
having done a good stroke of political business.

HAFFIGAN [awestruck]. Good morning, sir.

THE REST. Good morning. [They watch him vacantly until he is out
of earshot].

CORNELIUS. Hwat d'ye think, Father Dempsey?

FATHER DEMPSEY [indulgently] Well, he hasn't much sense, God help
him; but for the matter o that, neither has our present member.

DORAN. Arra musha he's good enough for parliament what is there
to do there but gas a bit, an chivy the Goverment, an vote wi dh
Irish party?