Belle. What did you do?
Bill. Sure, I ran into his fist.
Belle. But—what did he hit you for?
Bill. He don't need no reason. He hits.
Belle. Oh, you poor kid! Why do you stand it?
Bill. I ain't goin' to, no more. I told Jack about it, an' he says fer me to come and stay in his room. Will youse take me in?
Belle. Why, sure!
Bill. I ain't no dead beat, youse unnerstand. I earn my keep. Look a here! (Pulls out a handful of pennies.) Ain't much gold in it, but it makes a good jingle.
Belle. How did you get it?
Bill. Extry! Extry! Woil'n Join'l! Sun'n Globe! Mail'n Telygram! (Looks about.) Say, I don't like the housekeepin' in this here joint.