"Well, how was I?"
There was an ominous pause, and then Mother, reaching over and patting his knee lovingly, said,
"Now, don't you care, Eddie, as long as you get your money."
Cliff Gordon's father doesn't believe it yet. Cliff was playing in New York and stopping at home.
"Vere you go next veek, Morris?" asked Father.
"Orpheum, Brooklyn," replied Cliff.
"How mooch vages do you get dere?"
"Three fifty."
"Tree huntret unt fifty tollars?"