Eddie Cantor
I deserve it. I'll bet you feel I was all through. No such luck. I must finish this.
Oh, before I forget, yesterday I went down to the Pennsylvania Railroad Station to wait for a train for Philadelphia. And, standing alongside of me—right in the little place where you make the trains for Philadelphia—was a Jewish man and a little boy. And it seemed that this boy must have aggravated his father, because his father kept hitting him! He kept saying to him, "I could give it to you for the second time."
Finally a man passed and said, "Cut that out, Mister. Don't you hit that boy again, or I'll make trouble for you, hear that? I'll make trouble for you." This fella turned around and said, "You're gonna make trouble for me? Last week my wife ran away with a janitor, yesterday I failed in business, my baby's got measles, and he swallowed the tickets to Philadelphia, and you're gonna make trouble for me?"
You seemed to like the story so well, I think I'll tell you another story, of a gentleman of Hebraic faith. Last year, the week before Christmas—you remember, we had the week before Christmas last year—I was going on the train from Chicago to San Francisco, on the Overland Limited—that's an express train that goes directly from Chicago to San Francisco.
And the first day out, seated alongside of me, was this little fella who kept moaning to himself, like this: "Ohh!" And the next day out he repeated the same thing and says: "Ohh!" And when he did it the third day, I went over to him—I said, "Mister, please excuse me for butting in, but I want to help you. Tell me, why—why do you keep moaning like that?" He says "Oh, it's already the third day I'm on the wrong train. Agh!"
Well, I think I'll sing again now. It won't hurt. Mr. Olsen, again, won't you play a little something for Eddie?