Son. Because I am your Son.
Father. You mean someone infinitely more important—my Lodger.
Son. And you absolutely refuse me food?
Father. Not I, my boy; not I! It is the law! If I was to give you what you ask, you and I would be had up for bribery.
Son. Then you prefer patriotism to paternal affection?
Father. Well, to be candid with you, I do! It is distinctly cheaper!
Muscovite Version of a Music-hall Chorus.
HIRSCH! HIRSCH! HIRSCH!
Here comes the Bogie Man!