A mol iz geven drai Indians. Di mama, Pocayenta, der tate, Geronowitz, un di tokhter, Minihorowitz. Ein tog, kumt aheim Minihorowitz un zogt, "Mama, ikh vil heretn!"

"Heretn! 'siz shoyn tsait! Du bist yetst an alte moid! Zekhtsen yor alt! Ver iz der bokher?"

"Oy, Mama, hob ikh getrofn mit a bokher! Shtark, heldish, ..."

"Vos iz zain nomen?"

"Sitting Bulvon."

"Vos far a yikhus hot er?"

"Zeyn tate iz Meshigine Ferd, der gantser macher fun di Shvartsfus tribe."

"Oy, veln mir hobn a khasene! Ale di Shvartsfus, ale di Shmohawks, un di gantse mishpokhe... Oy oy oy, mir hobn ein tsore!"

"Vos iz di mer?"

"Di tsipi iz nisht groys genuk far ale di gestn fun khasene. Geronowitz! Geronowitz, shtey af dem tukhes un gei krig far mir a buffalo!"

"Farvus vilstu a buffalo?"

"Mitn fleish fun buffalo, ken ikh makhen a gut gedempte buffalo tsimis. Un mitn pelts ken ikh makhen groyser di tsipi, un mir veln kenen ainleidn di gantse velt tsum khasene!"

Geit avek Geronowitz. Ein tog. Tsvei tog. Nisht ken Geronowitz. A vokh shpeter, kumt aheim Geronowitz, mit gornisht in zeyn hent.

"Shlemeil! Vu iz mayn buffalo?" zogt Pocayente.

"Du un dayn buffalo tsimis! Ikh hob eikh beide in bod!"

"Vos iz di mer?"

"Ershtn tog, hob ikh gezen a buffalo. Nit groys genuk far tsipi, nit gut genug far tsimis. Tsveitn tug, hob ikh gezen an andere buffalo. Gut genuk, groys genuk, ober mit aza farfoilte pelts! A mieskayt fun a buffalo, hob ikh keinmol nit gezen! A por mer teg, hob ikh gezen an andere buffalo. Groys genuk, gut genuk, a perfect buffalo!"

"Nu, vuden?"

"Vuden? Bin ikh gegangn tsu shokhetn de buffalo. Hob ikh gekukt in mayn tash, un Goyishe Kop! Ikh hob genumen mit mir di milkhedike tomahawk!"

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 buffalo?!"

"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."

"See what?" says Pocayenta.
"I've brought the dairy tomahawk!"

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