from Our Fat Contributor
SNYDER kept a beer saloon some years ago "over
the Rhine." Snyder was a ponderous Teuton of
very irascible temper—"sudden and quick in
quarrel"—get mad in a minute. Nevertheless his
saloon was a great resort for "the boys"—partly
because of the excellence of his beer, and partly
because they liked to chafe "Old Snyder," as they
called him; for, although his bark was terrific,
experience had taught them that he wouldn't bite.
One day Snyder was missing; and it was explained
by his "frau," who "jerked" the beer that day,
that he had "gone out fishing mit der poys." The
next day one of the boys, who was particularly fond
of "roasting" old Snyder, dropped in to get a glass
of beer, and discovered Snyder's nose, which was a
big one at any time, swollen and blistered by the
sun, until it looked like a dead-ripe tomato.
"Why, Snyder, what's the matter with your
nose?" said the caller.
"I peen out fishing mit der poys," replied Snyder,
laying his finger tenderly against his proboscis;
"the sun it pese hot like ash never vas, und I purns
my nose. Nice nose, don't it?" And Snyder viewed
it with a look of comical sadness in the little mirror
back of his bar. It entered at once into the head of
the mischievous fellow in front of the bar to play a
joke upon Snyder; so he went out and collected half
a dozen of his comrades, with whom he arranged that
they should drop in at the saloon one after another,
and ask Snyder, "What's the matter with that
nose?" to see how long he would stand it. The man
who put up the job went in first with a companion,
and seating themselves at a table called for beer.
Snyder brought it to them, and the new-comer
exclaimed as he saw him, "Snyder, what's the
matter with your nose?"
"I yust dell your friend here I peen out fishin' mit
der poys, unt de sun he purnt 'em—zwi lager—den
Another boy rushes in. "Halloo, boys, you're
ahead of me this time; s'pose I'm in, though. Here,
Snyder, bring me a glass of lager and a pret"—(appears
to catch a sudden glimpse of Snyder's nose,
looks wonderingly a moment and then bursts out
laughing)—"ha! ha! ha! Why, Snyder—ha!—ha!—what's
the matter with that nose?"
Snyder, of course, can't see any fun in having a
burnt nose or having it laughed at; and he says, in
a tone sternly emphatic:
"I peen out fishin' mit der poys, unt de sun it yust
ash hot ash blazes, unt I purnt my nose; dat ish all
Another tormentor comes in, and insists on "setting
'em up" for the whole house. "Snyder," says
he, "fill up the boys' glasses, and take a drink
yourse——ho! ho! ho! ho! ha! ha! ha! Snyder,
wha—ha! ha!—what's the matter with that nose?"
Snyder's brow darkens with wrath by this time, and
his voice grows deeper and sterner:
"I peen out fishin' mit der poys on the Leedle
Miami. De sun pese hot like ash—vel, I burn my
pugle. Now that is more vot I don't got to say.
Vot gind o' peseness? Dat ish all right; I purn my
own nose, don't it?"
"Burn your nose—burn all the hair off your head
for what I care; you needn't get mad about it."
It was evident that
wouldn't stand more
than one tweak at that nose; for he was tramping
about behind his bar, and growling like an exasperated
old bear in his cage. Another one of
his tormentors walks in. Some one sings out to
him, "Have a glass of beer, Billy?"
"Don't care about any beer," says Billy, "but,
Snyder, you may give me one of your best ciga—Ha-a-a!
ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho! he! he! he!
ah-h-h-ha! ha! ha! ha! Why—why—Snyder—who
who—ha-ha! ha! what's the matter with that
Snyder was absolutely fearful to behold by this time;
his face was purple with rage, all except his
nose, which glowed like a ball of fire. Leaning his
ponderous figure far over the bar, and raising his arm
aloft to emphasize his words with it, he fairly roared:
"I peen out fishin' mit ter poys. The sun it pese
hot like ash never was. I purnt my nose. Now you
no like dose nose, you yust take dose nose unt wr-wr-wr-wring
your mean American finger mit 'em. That's
the kind of man vot I am!" And Snyder was right.