So, to work for Mr. Ziegfeld, I gotta' be an urchin. Even in burlesque I was middle class

Florenz Ziegfeld Jr.:

[Scolding the wardrobe man for having dressed Miss Brice in an inappropriately showy costume]
How do you expect Miss Brice to sing a sad song about her man, dressed up like a nightingale? I find personalities, and you try to destroy them. I didn't engage Miss Brice as a showgirl. Clarence:
[after having altered Miss Brice's costume to the bare minimum]
Is that all right, Mr. Ziegfeld? Florenz Ziegfeld Jr.:
Well, it's all right for now. Tomorrow, get her another outfit. And don't make it, buy it. Go to a second-hand store and get her an old dress. She's supposed to be a, an apache, a poor French girl, an urchin! Clarence:
[meekly]
Yes, sir. Fanny Brice:
[looking disappointed]
So, to work for Mr. Ziegfeld, I gotta' be an urchin. Even in burlesque I was middle class