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: Ah, so, Mr Curious, you've discovered the herring. Fievel Mousekewitz
: Herring? I thought they were fish. Papa Mousekewitz
: But Fievel, herring are fish. Fievel Mousekewitz
: Really, Papa? Papa Mousekewitz
: Oh, yes. In the ocean, there are many kinds of fish, and herring is one of them. Fievel Mousekewitz
: All kinds? Papa Mousekewitz
: Yes. Tiny fishes, not so tiny fishes, fishes as big as this boat. Fievel Mousekewitz
: Wow! Let's go up and see the fish.
: It's the end of the world. Papa Mousekewitz
: No, it's worse.
: And for you, Fievel, a new hat. And not just any new hat. A new hat that has been in the family for three generations. It belonged to me, my father, and my father's father, and now it belongs to you. Happy Hannukah. Fievel Mousekewitz
: It's too big. Mama Mousekewitz
: You'll grow.
: Oh, I nearly forgot. Here, Fievel, your hat.
[the hat drops as before; Fievel adjusts the hat with his ears
] Mama Mousekewitz
: The hat, it fits! Papa Mousekewitz
: My son! Now, you are a mouse.
: Fievel, this is the last time I take you to America.
: You are calling for a Fillie Mousekewitz, right? Tell my daugther his name is Fillie and not Fievel. Tony Toponi
: His name's Fillie. Papa Mousekewitz
: You see? Tony Toponi
: ...and Fievel. Papa Mousekewitz
: And Fievel... and Fievel? Tanya Mousekewitz
: Papa. Papa Mousekewitz
: No, there are many Fievel Mouskewitzes in New York, maybe thousands! It could still be another Fievel Mousekewitz. Mama Mousekewitz
: No, Papa. Look.
[Holds up Fievel's hat
] Mama Mousekewitz
: Fievel! Tanya! Stop that twirling, twirling! I mean it! Papa Mousekewitz
: But Mama, it's Hannukah. Mama Mousekewitz
: For you, every night is Hannukah.
: For Tanya, a new papushka. Happy Hannauka. Tanya Mousekewitz
: Oh, Papa, thank you. Mama Mousekewitz
: You have only one parent? Tanya Mousekewitz
: Thank you, Mama.
: Look, Papa! Smoke! Is the boat on fire? Papa Mousekewitz
: No! Keep walking!
: Mama, look! Don't be afraid to open your eyes! Look what you're missing! You're missing everything! Mama Mousekewitz
: Papa, when we land, I'll look.
: In America, there are mouse holes in every wall. Mama Mousekewitz
: Who says? Papa Mousekewitz
: Everyone. In America, there are bread crumbs on every floor. Mama Mousekewitz
: You're talking nonsense! Papa Mousekewitz
: In America, you can say anything you want, but most important - and this I know for a fact - in America, there are no cats.
: Won't it be great when we finally get to America, where we don't have to worry about cats? There are no cats in America. But back home in Mother Russia... Ahh.
] Papa Mousekewitz
: Our family was traveling through the snow to Minsk / Suddenly Papa saw those huge paw prints / When I heard him screaming I fainted dead away / And I woke up an orphan... Oy vey!
[after the cats have just raided the marketplace
] Mama Mousekewitz
: Well Mister there are no WHATS in America, hmm? Papa Mousekewitz
: [laughs nervosuly
: Oh, my little boy, back from the dead. America, what a place. Papa Mousekewitz
: My Fievel. I thought I would never see you again. Fievel Mousekewitz
: Never say never, Papa.
] In America... there are no... cats. Mama Mousekewitz
: Shhh! They'll hear you. Papa Mousekewitz
: How can they hear us?
: [the cossack cat raid has left the Mousekawitz's house destroyed and burning to the ground; leaving the Mousekawitz family to look on in sorrow; mournfully
] And that's why in America... There are No cats.
: Poppa, they're throwing vegetables at me AGAIN. Papa Mousekiwitz
: Keep singing and they might throw some fruit for dessert.
: What's the matter, Fievel my son? You should be happy we are going out west. Fievel
: I never got a chance to say goodbye to Tiger. Will I ever see him again? Papa Mousekiwitz
: Who am I to know? Tiger was a wonderful cat, but he was still a cat. Someday, you will understand. Fievel
: When, Papa? When will I understand? Papa Mousekiwitz
: Fievel, if growing up were so easy, would it take so long?
: I thought things would be better in America. In Russia, my violins were famous. At least we never went hungry. Fievel
: Maybe Tanya shouldn't sing again. Tanya Mousekewitz
: Very funny.
: They call America the land of oppurtunity. Oppurtunity for what? For children to play in the filthy streets? To never see the sun shine? Fievel's birthday is coming! And we don't even have enough money for presents. Fievel
: Oh, Papa, I don't care. Tanya Mousekewitz
: I could always sing in front of the gift shop, and maybe they'll throw presents. Papa Mousekiwitz
: How sweetly blessed I am to have such fine children! Maybe things will get better!