"An' what's the good of it all, hey?
Sometimes I wish I was a hobo.

They don't work, an' they get their livin'.

Gee! I wish I had a glass of beer; but I can't get up the gumption to go down to the village an' get it.

You'll stay over, an' send your books dawn by express, or else you're a damn fool." "But what can I do here all day Sunday ?" Martin asked.
"Rest.

You don't know how tired you are.