PHONSIE: Mommer, when do I eat?
GLADYS: Alas, we cannot buy food, we are penniless.
PHONSIE: If you would only put your jewels in soak, mommer.
GLADYS: What, hock me sparks? Never! I may starve, yes, but I'll starve like a lady in all my finery!
PHONSIE: Mommer, I want to eat.
GLADYS: What shall I do? My child hungry, dying, without even the price of a shave! Oh, my heart is like my brother on the railroad, breaking—breaking—breaking—(Weeps.)
PHONSIE: Ah, don't cry, mommer. You'll have the whole place damp.
You keep on sewing and I'll keep on dying.
GLADYS: Very well. (Drying eyes.) But first I'll go out and get a can of beer. Thank goodness, we always have beer money.
PHONSIE: Oh yes, mommer, do rush the growler. Me coppers is toastin'. And don't forget your misery cape and the music that goes with you, will you, mommer?
GLADYS: I'll get those.