Laurette Luez

Hoatley: Nice work, kid. You kept your head. You're a real carny, no mistake.

Molly: You ought to have heard Stan spout the gospel to that old hypocrite. It was like being in Sunday school.

Zeena Krumbein: You must have been raised pretty religious.

Stanton Carlisle: Yeah, in a county orphanage.

Molly: Didn't you have any folks?

Stanton Carlisle: If I did, they weren't much interested.

Zeena Krumbein: Where'd you learn all this gospel?

Stanton Carlisle: In the orphanage. That's what they used to give us on Sunday after beating us black-and-blue all week. Then when I ran away, they threw me in the reform school. But that's where I got wise to myself. I let the chaplain save me, and got a parole in no time. Boy, how I went for salvation! Comes in kind of handy when you're in a jam.

Stanton Carlisle: [to the other hobos] See how easy it is to hook them? Stock reading. Fits anybody. Never misses. What's youth? Happy one minute, hungry and heart broken the next. Every boy has a dog. Every boy has a beautiful old gray haired mother. Everybody, except maybe me.

Hobo at Stan's Left Hand: What happened to her?

Stanton Carlisle: What do you care?

Hobo by Stan's Right Hand: Hey, don't cry in that good liquor.

Hobo by Stan's Right Hand: [grabbing and drinking from the bottle before passing it to the other hobos] You know, I had a mother once. She wasn't so good looking but she was mighty good to me.

Stanton Carlisle: Hey. Hey. You fellas take it easy. There's not going to be any left for me.

Hobo at Stan's Left Hand: Buddy, you're sure a good mind reader.

[the hobo passes the bottle back to Stan who knocks it back discovering it is indeed empty]