DANIEL (_opening door of workshop and peeping out. He sees_ JOHN _and goes over to him with a genial air_). Good morning John.

JOHN (_snappishly_). Morning.

DANIEL. John, what do you think, I believe I have just come on to a great idea about----

JOHN. Ach! You and your great ideas! Here you've been blundering and blethering and talking these fifteen years and more, and I've never seen anything come of them yet.

DANIEL (_soothingly_). I know, John, I know. But I'm handicapped you know. Bad place to work in and all the rest of it: but you've been kind to me, John. Keeping a brother and helping him after he has lost all his money isn't a common thing with many men, but John a day will come sometime, and you'll get it all back. (_Impressively_). Every penny. Aye, and twice over.

JOHN (_softening_). Thank you, Daniel.

DANIEL. You will, John, you will. But don't cast up things like that about the time I've been. It hurts me. A thing like this takes time to mature, you know, John. The great and chief thing for an inventor is time. Look at Palissy, the great French potter, who found out how to make porcelain glaze. Why he worked for years and years at his invention. And there was the man who found out how to make steam drive engines. Look at the years those men spent--and no one begrudged them.

JOHN. I suppose that now.

DANIEL. Certainly, John, nothing surer. And look at the fortunes those men made. But the great difficulty is trying to get someone to take up your patent. You see these men had the eyes of the world fixed on them. People knew all about them, and had their hands stretched out ready to grab what they invented. (_Pathetically_). I----I'm just a poor unknown man struggling in a wee dark corner.

JOHN (_touched_). Never mind, Danny. You'll make the name of the Murray's known yet, maybe.

DANIEL. I'll do my best, John. But mind you it would take me to be pushing on this thing that I have found out and bringing it before people to notice. You see I've got it all ready now except for a few small details.

JOHN (_much interested_). Have you now? I would like you sometime to explain it to me, Daniel. I didn't quite get on to it the last time you were telling me about it.

DANIEL. Some time again. Oh yes. But John--I'll have to go to some of the towns soon to see people about it. The bigger the town the better the chance, and John (_impressively_)--London's the place.

JOHN (_aghast_). London! In all the name of the world, yon place!

Would Belfast not do you?

DANIEL. No. I don't like Belfast. They're a mangy, stick-in-the-mud, follow-in-the-old-ruts crowd. Never strike out anything new. It's a case of London or nothing.

JOHN (_dubiously_). It will be a terrible expense this London visiting.

DANIEL. It'll be worth it.

JOHN. Now, Danny, I would like to oblige you, but what do you think it would cost me?

DANIEL. Well, I could live cheap you know, John, and do without meals an odd day, and go steerage and third cla.s.s, and that sort of thing. I would say about fifteen pounds roughly. That would let me stay more than a week.

JOHN. Fifteen pounds! G.o.d bless me, Daniel, would you break me? No, no, I couldn't afford to give you that much.

DANIEL. Maybe ten would do it. I could sleep out under the arches an odd night or two, and----

JOHN. No, no. I'll not have that. A Murray aye had a bed to go to and a sup to eat. (_After a contemplative pause._) Here, I'll give you three pounds and you can go to Belfast.

DANIEL. I don't care much about Belfast. You know I have been there five times now, and I have never got anyone to look into the thing at all proper.

JOHN. You're too backward, Daniel, when it comes to the like of that.

But ten pounds! No, I would like you to get on in the world right enough, Daniel, but I couldn't afford it. You know the way this house is being kept; it's lamentable. Tea and sugar and flour and things.

Man, I'm just after paying off ten pounds to the McAfees for one thing and another, and it only a running account for two months. If I had a good housekeeper now, maybe things would alter for the better.

MARY (_coming out from the workshop followed by_ ALICK). O Uncle Dan!

He says he'll go at once and get it----(_She stops short in confusion on seeing her father._)

ALICK. How are you, Mr. Murray?

JOHN. O! bravely. What's the news with you?

ALICK. I was just looking over some of them ideas of Daniel's, about the new fan bellows.

JOHN. Aye. Now what do you think of it?

ALICK (_warned by_ DANIEL _who nudges him_). They're great altogether.

JOHN. Do you think there will be any sale for it at all?

ALICK. I think so. (_He perceives_ DANIEL _motioning a.s.sent._) I believe there would be indeed.

JOHN. Man, I wish I had the head of some of you young fellows to understand the working of them machinery and things. (DANIEL _goes back into the workshop._) I've the worst head in the world for understanding about them sort of things. There's Daniel, a great head on him, Daniel.

ALICK (_slyly_). He has, right enough!

JOHN (_proudly_). One of the best. When he was a wee fellow, dang the one could beat him at making boats or drawing pictures, or explaining extraordinary things to you. None. Not one. A great head on him, Daniel. He'll do something yet.

ALICK. Did you know Andy McMinn's for coming over to see you this day, Mr. Murray?

JOHN (_eagerly_). This day? When? Are you sure?

ALICK. Aye, so he said. About two o'clock or so. Someone told him about Daniel's great new idea, and he's very curious to hear about it.

MARY. He's always poking his nose into people's business.

JOHN. Whist. Andy McMinn's a very decent man. Tell me (_rather bashfully_), was Sarah to come with him?

MARY (_alarmed_). O holy prophets! I hope not.

ALICK. Aye. She's coming too. She wanted to see it as well as Andy.

JOHN. Aye. Certainly, and she's welcome too. Mary, you can get the house ready, and the table set, and a nice tea for them when they come, and I can go and get tidied up a wee bit. (_He goes off through door into inner rooms._)

ALICK (_leaning against the table and looking across at_ MARY, _who is sitting at the opposite end._) You're as nice a wee girl as ever I----

MARY. You're an awful fool. Hurry, Alick, like a decent man and get that telegram sent.

ALICK. That uncle of yours, Mary, heth he's as canny a keoghboy as I've seen. Its the queer tears he'll be taking to himself in London if I know anything.

MARY. Hold your tongue. You've no business to talk about Uncle Dan that way. He could give you tons as far as brains go anyway.

ALICK. I believe that. (_He goes to yard door, then turns back._) I say, Mary. What name will I put on that telegram? "Come to London at once about patent. Intend purchasing." Hadn't we better have a name?