stock!

_Belle._ You're a knowing kid!

_Bill._ Youse got to be knowin' at my job!

_Belle (noticing that he has a black eye)._ You've got a black eye!

_Bill._ Sure! A shiner!

_Belle._ How did you get it?

_Bill._ Me step-father.

_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