A Soulful Journey

Baron Rothschild was visited by a schnorrer who looked sturdy enough to be employed in a more productive profession. ”How is it,” he asked, “that a healthy young man like you has become a schnorrer?  Isn’t there anything else you can do but beg?” “No Baron, I can’t do anything else.” “What do you mean, you can’t do anything else?” ”Well, you see I’m a schlemiel.” “But there must be something that you can do!” ”I can play music.” ”Oh, you can play music? And what instrument do you play?” ”What instrument? The trombone.” The Baron rang the bell and a servant appeared. ”James,” he said, "fetch me my trombone.” “You see,” said the schorrer, when the servant had disappeared, “I told you I am schlemiel. I said I could play the trombone and you call and just happen to have one.” -Friday Nite Book

Baron Rothschild in Frankfurt had died, and outside his place of business a schnorrer was weeping copiously.   At last one of the clerks took pity on him and came out to console him.   ‘Come, come,’ he said, ‘there is no need to take it so badly.   It won’t help you to cry.   And after all, the Baron wasn’t a relation of yours.’ ‘No,’ replied the schnorrer , ‘that’s why I’m crying.’   -Friday Nite Book Do not weep over what you never had.