Schmohawk Indians

There was this family of Schmohawk Indians sitting around the shtetl one
night.  The papa,  Geronowitz;  the mama,  Pocayenta;  and the beautiful
young daughter, Minihorowitz.
"So, nu," says the daughter, "You'll never believe."
"What?", says the mama.
"Today, at high noon, I was proposed to in marriage."
"Yes?" says the mama, "so what did you say?"
"I said 'Yes.'"
"You said 'Yes'?"
"I said 'Yes.'"
"That's wonderful," says the mama.  "She said 'Yes'!  Did you hear that
Geronowitz?  Our little Minihorowitz is getting married!"
"I heard," says the papa, "I'm kvelling.  So who's the lucky boy?"
"Sittin' Bialy."
"Sittin' Bialy?" says the mama, "of the SoSiouxMe tribe?"
"That's the one," says Minihorowitz.
"Oy, Geronowitz!  The SoSiouxMe's!  There are so many of them!  How can we
feed them?  How can we get them all in our teepee for the wedding?"
"We'll think of something," says Geronowitz.
"Geronowitz!  Get me a buffalo!"
"What, at this hour?"
"No, Geronowitz, for the wedding!  I can make buffalo tzimmes from the meat,
  and we can make an extra teepee from the hide. Get me a buffalo!"
So Geronowitz goes out to hunt a buffalo.  A day goes by, and a night, and
Geronowitz has not come back.  Another day and another night, and still no
sign of him. Another day and half the night, and Geronowitz comes home.
Exhausted.  Staggering.  And empty-handed.
"Geronowitz!, I've been worried sick.  Where have you been?  And where's my
"It's like this," he says.  "On my first day out, I hunted high, and I
hunted low, and I finally found a buffalo.  But this buffalo, he made
Mickey Rooney look strong.  It was a tiny, scrawny little buffalo, with no
meat on his bones for buffalo tzimmes, and barely enough hide for a rain
hat.. So I settled in for the night to try again the next day.
"The second day, I looked high, and I looked low, from this way and that
way, and I finally found a buffalo.  He was a big buffalo, with lots of
meat, and lots of hide, but I tell you, Pocayenta, this was the ugliest
buffalo I ever saw in my life.  'This,' I thought to myself, 'is not the
buffalo for MY daughter's wedding.' So again, I settled in for the night to
try again the next day.
"The third day, I got up early, and I looked high and I looked low, from
this way and that way, going up hills and down hills, and I found a
buffalo.  It was a big buffalo.  It was, as buffalos go, a beautiful
buffalo.  It was, if I say so myself, the perfect buffalo.  'This,' I says
to myself, 'is the buffalo Pocayenta wants for Minihorowitz's wedding.'"So
I reach into my backpack quietly for my tomahawk, as I tip-toe over to the
buffalo.  raise  my tomahawk slowly over the buffalo's neck, when suddenly,
like a bolt of lightning from the sky, I see it.
I've brought the dairy tomahawk!"

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