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    Atchoo! Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian
    Atchoo! Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian
    Atchoo! Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian
    Ebook133 pages1 hour

    Atchoo! Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian

    By George Niblo

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    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    Atchoo! Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian

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      Book preview

      Atchoo! Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian - George Niblo

      The Project Gutenberg eBook, Atchoo!, by George Niblo

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      Title: Atchoo!

      Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian

      Author: George Niblo

      Release Date: February 18, 2013 [eBook #42122]

      Language: English

      Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

      ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATCHOO!***

      E-text prepared by Demian Katz

      and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team

      (http://www.pgdp.net)

      from page images generously made available by

      Villanova University Digital Library

      (http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)

      S. & S. HUMOR LIBRARY No. 2—ILLUSTRATED—PRICE, 25 CENTS

      ATCHOO!

      Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian

      BY

      GEORGE NIBLO

      STREET & SMITH - PUBLISHERS - NEW YORK

      ATCHOO!

      Sneezes from a Hilarious Vaudevillian

      BY

      GEORGE NIBLO

      NEW YORK

      STREET & SMITH, Publishers

      238 William Street

      Copyright, 1903

      By STREET & SMITH

      Atchoo!

      ATCHOO!

      Fellow citizens!—I beg pardon, I mean ladies and gentlemen! You see I've just come from a political meeting, and that sort of thing gets on your nerves. I went to hear my friend Isaacstein talk. His subject was Why should the Jew have to work?

      They did a lot of whitewashing at that meeting. I suppose it's all right. Of course you can't make a new fence with a pail of whitewash, but you can cover up the mothholes.

      But we mustn't be too hard on the politicians. If it wasn't for politics a good many fellows that are too lazy to earn a living with their hands would be paupers. But some of 'em are all right. There's Isaacstein for instance. As good a man as ever sauntered down Hester Street. He joined the noble army of grafters two years ago and worked so hard at his profession that he got appendicitis.

      A friend of Isaacstein's met another acquaintance of his in Hester Street and asked:

      Haf you heard aboudt Isaacstein?

      No. Vat iss it?

      He vas sick. They take him by der hospital, and vat you tink they do to him?

      Vell. Vell. Vat iss it?

      They put him in a room all by himself und take his appendix away from him.

      Na! Na! Na! Vat a pity, ain't it, he didn't have it in his wife's name?

      Why, I was taken sick myself lately—such thing will happen even in the best regulated families, you know.

      The doctor came and said that he

      Would make another man of me.

      All right, said I, "and if you will,

      Just send that other man your bill."

      While I was on my way here there was a fire down in one of those thickly populated streets where twenty families and more live, like sardines, in a tenement. The fire engine came booming along, and as usual created tremendous excitement.

      I noticed a small chap on a bicycle riding zigzag in front of the machine, evidently anxious to keep up with it and get to the fire in time to watch it begin work.

      Half a dozen times the driver had to pull up suddenly to avoid running over the nervy little Hebrew, and this of course made the firemen riding with the machine furious.

      Just in front of where I was standing one of the gallant life savers jumped down from the engine, caught hold of the boy and pulled him off to one side, at the same time saying:

      You miserable little Sheeney, you ought to be arrested for getting in the way! I've a good mind to spank you.

      The boy looked at the fireman in surprise and whimpered:

      If it wasn't for the Jews you wouldn't have anything to do.

      I often squander an hour or two down in Hester Street, where I have some rare acquaintances among the second-hand dealers.

      Of course you understand that I only go there to study human nature, and I remember some months ago being delightfully entertained at a Jewish wedding, where my esteemed friend Moses Schaumburg gave his cherished Rebecca into the keeping of young Silverstein, a progressive Broadway salesman.

      This fact was brought to my mind when, only the other day I saw the bridegroom rush into his father-in-law's establishment bearing a look of excitement, and also a few very positive scratches upon his olive face, and exclaiming dramatically:

      Mister Schaumburg, I vants you to dake back your daughter Rebecca.

      The old man threw up his hands.

      I dakes not dot Repecca back. Ven a man comes to my house, picks out himself a piece of goots, and dot goots vas received by him in goot order, I vould be a fool to dake pack dot goods. No, sir, you schoost keep dot Repecca.

      My brother Tom was hit on the head some time ago, and at the hospital they said they would have to amputate half his brain. I didn't want them to, because he is absent-minded anyway.

      We'll have to give him something to make him sleep, said one of the surgeons.

      That won't be necessary, said another; he's a policeman.

      That made Tom sore, and he snapped: "I've got

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