"The trainin'-school's the place for you, Jimmie. If you'd only take the dynamo over to the superintendent and show him where you're stuck he'd help you, Jimmie. I been beggin' you so long, and if only you wasn't so stubborn!"
"I ain't got the nerve buttin' in over there; it's for fellows who got swell jobs already."
"There's classes for boys, too, Jimmie; the janitor told me. Just go to-morrow and show your dynamo. It won't hurt nothin', and maybe they'll know just what the trouble is—it's only a little thing, Jimmie—three times in succession it worked last night, didn't it? It won't hurt to go, Jimmie—just to go and show it."
"Nix; I ain't got the nerve. You just wait! I ain't got the trainin'; but didn't I sell my double lens the day after I got the patent? Didn't I make that twenty-five just like battin' your eye?"
"The janitor says you was robbed in it, Jimmie."
"We should worry! Didn't we get a rockin'-chair and a string of beads and a tool-chest out of it?"
"It ain't you worries me so much, Jimmie. Here, put your head here on the pillow next to me, Jimmie. My heart's actin' up to-night. It ain't you worries me you're a man like your papa was and can hit back; but Essie—if only Essie—"
"You don't handle her right, ma; you're too easy-going with her. Since she went on her new job she's gettin' too gay—too gay!"
"Jimmie!"
"Sure she is. Like I told her last night when she came in all hours from dancing—if she didn't take that war-paint off her face I'd get her in a corner and rub it off till—"