what is the meaning of this? no one is allowed backstage -- you will leave at once! out, out, out, out --
kelly, where've you been, kid? i miss you up in the balcony -- you know i sing all my songs to you.
welcome!
don't ever own a theater, kid. don't even think about it.
what have we here -- ? aren't you the cutest little fella that ever was -- yes, you are --
this kid is good. speaking as one professional to another, i'd say you got a future.
as long as you like -- now the lark must warble. hey, you -- -- give my guests whatever they want.
'my lovey-dovey baby'.  etc.
darlings, i love you -- i wish * you luck on your rally, i am behind * you one hundred percent. but i'm not running a union hall here -- this is a theater, a temple of art. and well-known money pit.
it's not the money. i depend on the papers. they write good things about me, the customers flock here like sheep. they give me the pan, i'm the one who gets sheared.
they have the power to destroy people.
you are so young.  she looks back out at the stage; jack pulls david away. then --
got to be on monday night. i'm dark on monday nights.
don't thank me. thank mr. wisenheimer guilt-maker of 1899 there.
high times, hard times
hiya, newsies -- what's new? they roar; racetrack's on his feet --
you're all winners here tonight, racetrack. just being with you makes me feel kinda extra extra.
but you never know what life will bring. over the years, i've developed quite an outlook --
and all kinds of people are always asking my advice, well, for instance --
my good friend the mayor,
you boys sing as sweet as songbirds.
thank you, boots. would you keep it for me? for luck? boots beams happily as she moves to --
i'm afraid so, race.
you win some, you lose some, my dear
unhand that boy this instant! i said hands off the kid, you red- faced baboon! get out of my theater -- out, out, out, out, out! david twists away as macswain backs stumblingly down the stairs as medda descends on him in full fury.
if you're tired of beating up children, maybe you'd like to try a lady next. confused and intimidated, the irish cop looks at her -- then ducks his head shamefacedly and moves away.
run, david, hurry --
you can't help him if you're in jail, too! you were right, david -- you've got to keep fighting them -- always. now go. please. david looks at her, very moved, then goes. she turns back to her theater -- the sounds of the melee sweep over her. she watches, tears welling in her eyes.