_Bill._ Gee! Since when is this? Here! _(Shows money.)_

_Schmidt._ A nickel? You don't get much fer a nickel! _(Calls.)_
Hey, you! Vaiter! Vy, you don't come for my customers?

_Jack (rushes in Left)._ Here! _(Sees Bill.)_ Oh, hello! It's the
kid!

_Bill._ Whatcher doin' here?

_Jack (comes up to him, whispers)._ I got a job!

_Bill._ Hully gee!

_Jack._ A fine job! No wages--but I'll get my grub every day.

_Bill._ Well, I want grub too! I got the stuff!

_Jack (excitedly)._ A customer! _(Turns to Schmidt.)_ See, Mr.
Schmidt, a customer already! _(Rushes with alacrity to table.)_ Have
a seat, sir. Your hat, sir. _(Hangs it up.)_ There, sir. Here's the
menu, sir.

_Bill._ Say, Cully, whatcher givin' us?

_Jack._ Ssh! _(Aloud.)_ What will you have, sir? Sweet bread
croquettes, sir? We have delicious sweet-bread croquettes today. Or
perhaps you'd like--let me see, sir. _(Snatches menu.)_ Corned beef
hash, sir, or possibly a charlotte russe.