"My boy—my wonder-boy!"
"There goes the overture, ma."
"Here, darlink—your glass of water."
"I can't stand it in here; I'm suffocating!"
"Got your mute in your pocket, son?"
"Yes, ma; for God's sake, yes! Yes! Don't keep asking things!"
"Ain't you ashamed, Leon, to be in such an excitement! For every concert you get worse."
"The chairs—they'll breathe on nay neck."
"Leon, did mamma promise you those chairs would be moved?"
"Where's Hancock?"