“Aah, you don’t know nottin’,” said Joe. “It’s on’y a play, like. I don’t pay no attention to that.”
“You was takin’ it all in,” said Pat.
Joe’s close-set eyes seemed to draw closer together; he gnawed a finger nail, scowling slightly. “I dunno . . .” he muttered. “It set me thinkin’, like. . . . It was a chance to see how them rich folks lives inside their houses. They lives nice. Plenty of room to spread themselves. And t’ best of ev’yt’ing, see? That’s what appeals to me. Soft stuffs like silks and velvets around yeh, and women fixed nice. Servants to ac’ humble, and bring yeh ev’yt’ing yeh want. . . .”
“Maybe that was all made up, too,” suggested Pat.
“Shut up, you pore ign’rant mutt, and listen to what I’m tellin’ yeh! . . . Look at the dirty way our folks live. What do folks call us? gutter-snipes; street ayrabs, and such all. Well, them folks are no better’n we are, on’y they got money, see? Well, I guess they’s more money to be got the same way. . . . This is a free country and I’m as good as anybody. . . . You don’t git money by wuykin’ your heart out, neither. It ain’t wuykman as gits rich. It’s the smart guys. They wuyk the boobs and suckers. . . . When you git older you begin sizin’ things up. I’m near sixteen now. Well, I’m a smart feller. I’m gonna live soft too, and have a servant that I can boot around. . . .”
“They didn’t boot their servants.”
“Shut up! They could if they wanted to.”
“Where you gonna git it?”
“I’ll git it all right. I allus gits what I wants. . . . I know what I want now. I want a whole lot of money. . . . First-off I got to make a good appearance. I’ll git me a nobby suit and a haircut . . .”
“Chrrrist!” said Pat, grinning derisively. Inside the theatre he knew he was safe.