TEACHER.  DO you remember the poem now, Conall?

CONALL.

    Up in the heaven of God, there are
    Archangels for every day.

    And it is they certainly
    That steer the entire week.

    The first day is holy;
    Sunday belongs to God.

    Gabriel watches constantly
    Every week over Monday.

    It is true that Tuesday is kept
    By Michael in his full strength.

    Rafael, honest and kind and gentle,
    It is to him Wednesday belongs.

    To Sachiel, that is without crookedness,
    Thursday belongs every week.

    Haniel, the Archangel of God,
    It is he has Friday.

    Bright Cassiel, of the blue eyes,
    It is he directs Saturday.

TEACHER.  That is a great wonder, not a word failed on him.  But tell me, Conall astore, how did you learn that poem since?

CONALL.  When I was sleeping, just now, there came an old man to me, and I thought there was every colour that is in the rainbow upon him.  And he took hold of my shirt, and he tore it; and then he opened my breast, and he put the poem within in my heart.

OLD MAN.  It is God that sent that dream to you.  I have no doubt you will not be hard to teach from this out.

CONALL.  And the man that came to me, I thought it was old
Cormacin that was in it.

FEARALL.  Maybe it was Aongus Ceile De himself that was in it.

AODH.  Maybe Cormacin is Aongus.

TEACHER.  Are you Aongus Ceile De?  I desire you in the name of
God to tell me.

THE OLD MAN (bowing his head).  Oh, you have found it out now!  Oh, I thought no one at all would ever know me.  My grief that you have found me out!

TEACHER (going on his knees).  O holy Aongus, forgive me; give me your blessing.  O holy man, give your blessing to these children. (The children fall on their knees round him.)

THE OLD MAN (stretching out his hand).  The blessing of God on you.  The blessing of Christ and His Holy Mother on you.  My own blessing on you.

THE NATIVITY

TWO WOMEN.

SHEPHERDS.

KINGS.

CHILD ANGELS.

THE HOLY FAMILY.

SCENE.—­A stable.  The door shut on it.  The dawn of day is rising, and the colours of morning coming.  Two women come in—­a woman of them from the east, and a woman from the west, and they tired from the journey.  There is a branch of a cherry tree in the hand of one of them, and a flock of flax in the hand of the other of them.

THE FIRST WOMAN.  God be with you!

THE SECOND WOMAN.  God be with yourself!

FIRST WOMAN.  Where are you going?

SECOND WOMAN.  In search of a woman I am.

FIRST WOMAN.  And myself as well as you.