"She's a brick, mother!"
"My dear Dan, you do use such extraordinary language sometimes. You didn't talk so when we lived on Madison avenue."
"No, mother, but I associate with a different class now. I can't help catching the phrases I hear all the time. But don't mind, mother; I mean no harm. I never swear—that is, almost never. I did catch myself at it the other day, when another newsboy stole half a dozen of my papers."
"Don't forget that you are a gentleman, Dan."
"I won't if I can help it, mother, though I don't believe anybody else would suspect it. I must take good care not to look into the looking-glass, or I might be under the impression that I was a street-boy instead of a gentleman."
"Clothes don't make the gentleman, Dan. I want you to behave and feel like a gentleman, even if your clothes are poor and patched."
"I understand you, mother, and I shall try to follow your advice. I have never done any mean thing yet that I can remember, and I don't intend to."
"I am sure of that, my dear boy."
"Don't be too sure of anything, mother. I have plenty of bad examples before me."