(Leaning on bar, in an ecstasy of accomplishment)
I watched this field for forty years and my father before me watched it for forty more. I know ever rib of grass and thistle and every whitethorn bush that bounds it.

(To BIRD) There's shamrock in the south-west corner. Shamrock, imagine! The north part is bound by forty sloe bushes.  Some fool planted them once, but they're a good hedge. 

This is a great little field, this is an independent little field that wants eatin'.