Cow Ruined the Vegetable Garden

Nasreddin Hodja was the kadi of the time. One day a neighbour came to confer with him.

`Hodja Effendi, it appears that your cow has entered into our vegetable garden and has caused considerable damage to the vegetables. What does your big black book of law say about that?'

`An animal doesn't have reason.' Nasreddin Hodja dismissed, `The owner cannot be held responsible for his animal's instinctive behaviour. No penalty is required.'

`I spoke wrong, Hodja Effendi,' the neighbour rectified, `I meant to say that our cow has entered into your vegetable garden.'

`Let's see what the law states about that!' And the Hodja reached for his big black book.

Fur Coat

One day the Hodja was invited to a feast in an important and wealthy family's home. When he arrived, neither the hosts, nor the other guests paid any attention to him. They made him sit at one corner of the table, they didn't ask his opinion on any of the discussed matters, and worst of all, they forgot to pass him the food trays. Nasreddin Hodja felt left out. Nobody was showing any due respect or offering him food. The servants were passing him by and forgetting to fill his goblet.

A half hour later, the Hodja had enough of being ignored and he quietly slipped out of the house. He went back to his home and changed his clothes. He wore the best and the newest garments he owned. Then, he borrowed a very nice coat with real fur trims from one of his better-off neighbours. With this new attire, he headed back to the house where the banquet was being held.

This time around, everyone noticed the Hodja. The hosts and the servants welcomed him and the other guests treated him with respect. They gave him the best spot at the table and offered him food and drinks. Nasreddin Hodja was very pleased with this new reception. He started to eat with relish and participate in the conversation.

However, the guests and the hosts soon noticed that, every now and then, the Hodja was dipping the hem of his coat into his plate and muttering `eat my fur coat, do eat, you eat too.' Everyone was curious.

`Hodja Effendi,' the host finally inquired, `why are you dipping your coat into the food and what is it that you are murmuring?' Nasreddin Hodja was waiting for this opportunity.

`I am feeding my coat,' he was glad to explain, `I am telling it to enjoy the food. After all, it is thanks to its fur trims that I am being offered all these delicious treats.'

Hard Cash

Nasreddin Hodja owed some money to a neighbour. The neighbour had asked for his money numerous times to no avail. One day he was at the Hodja's door again.

`Hodja Effendi, when are you going to pay my money back?'

`Look!' Nasreddin Hodja pointed out to a spot in his garden, `I planted shrubs over there.'

`So?'

`They will grow this tall by spring.'

`And?'

`All the sheep that pass by will brush against the shrubs and their wool will get caught by the prickly bushes.'

`Yes?'

`Then we will collect the wool from the shrubs and my daughter will spin them into yarns. I will take those yarns to the bazaar and sell them. With the money I get, I will pay you back.'

At this remote and unlikely solution, the neighbour had nothing to do but laugh.

`You see,' the Hodja said when he saw the lender laughing, `your mood improved when you saw the cash on the nail.'

Distributing Grapes

One day the hodja was walking home with a basket of grapes in his arm. When the neighbourhood children saw the grapes, they asked for some. Hodja gave each one of them a small cluster of grapes. When the children complained that he was giving too little, Hodja had to come up with an excuse to save his basket of grapes from being consumed before he reached home.

`A little, a lot,' he said, `they all taste the same.'

Building a Minaret

Nasreddin Hodja was travelling to Konya. On the road, he met an acquaintance from a nearby village. He was also going to Konya, so the two of them continued their journey together. As they approached Konya, the magnificent mosques with tall minarets started to become visible. Hodja's companion had never seen such tall minarets before. He was mystified by these soaring structures and wondered how they were made.

`Hodja Effendi, how do they build a minaret?'

`Oh, that's easy,' Nasreddin Hodja explained, `they just take a well and turn it inside out.'

Pitcher

One day Nasreddin Hodja had to send his son to the fountain to fill up their big, earthenware water pitcher. After handing the pitcher to his son, he slapped him on the face.

`Don't break the pitcher!' he said. People around who witnessed this, showed their disapproval.

`Hodja effendi, the kid didn't break the pitcher,' they said, `he didn't even leave for the fountain yet. Why did you slap him?'

`Ah, but, you see,' the Hodja replied, `if I slap him after he breaks the pitcher, it will be too late!'

Make-up

Nasreddin Hodja was the imam at the time and he was giving a sermon. The topic was make-up. The Hodja was advising the all-male congregation never to let their wives paint their faces.

`It is evil and wicked! It is impure and indecent!' he was lecturing, `My fellow men, don't allow your wives to put kohl on their eyebrows and crimson powder on their cheeks. It is sinful!'

`But Hodja Effendi,' the audience objected, `your own wife always paints her face.'

`True, true,' Nasreddin Hodja smiled, `it looks good on her, doesn't it?'

Payment

A woodman was carrying a sack full of chopped wood on his back. His sack was heavy and filled beyond its limit. The man, bent under his bulky burden, was struggling not to drop any of the wood pieces as he walked. However, the poor man couldn't avoid tripping over a stone on the road and half of his load fell out of their precarious pile. Another man happened to be passing by and saw the mishap.

`If I load those fallen pieces of wood back into your back sack, what would you give me?' he asked.

`Nothing.' said the man carrying the wood.

`That's acceptable.' agreed the other man. He collected all the chopped wood scattered on the road and crammed them back into the sack of the woodman. When done, he asked for his payment. The woodman was baffled.

`I told you, I would give you nothing.' he said.

`Yes. And that's what I want. Nothing.' said the other, `Give me my nothing!'

After some quarrel, the two men decided to let the kadi solve their problem. Nasreddin Hodja was on duty at the time. He listened to both men earnestly. Then he addressed the man who was expecting his payment of nothing.

`My dear fellow, could you please lift the far right corner of that rug on the floor and check what is underneath?' The man did as he was told and looked under the rug.

`What do you see?' asked the Hodja.

`Nothing.' said the man.

`Well, take it and go home.' commanded the Hodja, `That is your payment!'

Caught in a Lie

One day a neighbour asked Nasreddin Hodja if he could borrow Hodja's donkey.

`Hodja Effendi, we need a donkey for a few hours. Could I take yours?'

`I would gladly lend you my donkey, my neighbour,' the Hodja started his excuse, `but he is not here.' Just at that moment the donkey's loud and long bray is heard from the shed.

`Shame on you Hodja Effendi,' said the neighbour, `you are caught in a lie, your donkey is braying in the shed.'

`My dear fellow,' Nasreddin Hodja was unrepentant, `are you going to believe the word of a Hodja or are you going to believe a donkey?'

Quail Feast

One day the Hodja invited his friends over for dinner. He told them that he was going to prepare a meal with roasted quails. Nasreddin Hodja's friends, in their unceasing quest to baffle him, thought of a prank and came to dinner prepared.

When the quails were cooked, the Hodja placed them in his old, big, tin serving platter and put the lid on to prevent them from getting cold. He brought the covered platter to the dinner table and went back to the kitchen to bring other things. While he was in the kitchen, the well-prepared pranksters, hid the platter with the cooked quails and replaced it with another one that contained live quails.

When Nasreddin Hodja was ready to serve the dinner, he opened the lid of the platter and to his shock, all the quails flew out and about. The Hodja watched the birds in astonishment, darting this way and that way, and eventually flying out the open windows.

`Sublime Allah', he spoke looking up, `it is very well that you gave life to these cooked birds, but how are you going to reimburse me for the butter, salt and tomato paste I used?'

First Sermon

On his first day as the village's imam, Nasreddin Hodja was seated on the raised bench, preparing to give his sermon. The congregation was quite anxious to hear what he had to say. But The Hodja didn't really have a sermon ready.

`Do you know what I am about to tell you today?' he asked.

`No, Hodja Effendi, we don't.' they replied.

`If you don't know what I am going to talk about,' the Hodja said, `then I have nothing to tell you.' And with that, he got up and left the mosque, leaving the puzzled people behind him.

The next day, when it was the time of the sermon, Hodja was back on his seat and the congregation curiously waiting.

`Do you know what I am about to tell you today?' Hodja asked again. Having learned from the previous day, the people were not about to say `no' this time.

`Yes, Hodja Effendi,' they all shouted, `we know.'

`Well,' said the Hodja, `if you already know what I am going to tell you, then I don't need to tell it to you!' He got up and left. The people gathered in the mosque were at a loss.

The third day Hodja came and sat down, and asked his question.

`Do you know what I am about to tell you today?' The congregation was not going to let Hodja get away this time without giving a sermon. Some of them replied with `yes, we do' and some of them replied with `no, we don't.'

`In that case,' said the Hodja, `Those who do know should tell the ones who do not know.' and slipped out of the mosque.

Protecting the Minaret

Nasreddin Hodja was the imam at the time. One day, the people of Aksehir saw the Hodja tying a rope around the minaret of the mosque, and fastening it to the trunk of a large tree.

`Hodja Effendi, what are you doing?' they asked, totally baffled.

`I am securing the minaret,' the Hodja said, `so that nobody can steal it overnight.' The passers by were incredulous. They tried to reason with the Hodja.

`Hodja Effendi, if someone stole the minaret, where would he put it?'

`One who steals a minaret, prepares its case ahead of time!'

How To Ride a Donkey

One day Nasreddin Hodja and his young son were on their way to the market. The Hodja was riding his donkey and his son was walking beside him. As they travelled such, they heard a couple of villagers who happened to be passing by, speak disapprovingly about them.

`Look at our Hodja Effendi,' one said to the other, `he is comfortably riding on his donkey and letting his little boy walk along. Shame on the Hodja for making the boy suffer like that!' When Nasreddin Hodja heard this, he wanted to rectify what was perceived as his selfishness. He put his son on the donkey and he started to walk beside. Shortly after, they met another couple of villagers.

`Look at the Hodja and his son!' they said, `These are the times we are living in. A young boy is riding on the donkey and his poor old father is sweating to keep the pace. Today's children have no respect for their parents.' Nasreddin Hodja found some reason in this comment and thought of another remedy. They both got off of the donkey and started to walk beside it. A little while later, a group of villagers, also going to the market, approached the procession of the Hodja, the son and the donkey, all walking one after the other.

`This Hodja Effendi and his son have no minds, whatsoever.' they whispered amongst themselves, `They are both beating on their feet and the donkey is strolling along. Don't these people know what a donkey is for?' Hodja heard this and thought they had a point. The solution was clear. Both he and his son sat on the donkey. As they continued their trip this way, thinking that they have finally complied with all the opinions of their fellow villagers, they met another of their acquaintances. He was not very happy to see both the Hodja and the boy on a scrawny donkey.

`Hodja Effendi,' he yelled, `don't you know no mercy? How is this poor little animal supposed to carry two people? The donkey is also Allah's creation, have some pity.' Nasreddin Hodja agreed with this last remark as well. What were they to do? He shouldered the front body of the donkey and his son took on the back part, and they carried the donkey to the market place.

The Power of the Turban

A Persian resident of Aksehir received a letter from his relatives in Esfahan. Since he was illiterate, he brought the letter to Nasreddin Hodja to read for him. But the Hodja didn't know Persian.

`This is written in Persian,' he grumbled, `I can't read Persian!'

`Hodja Effendi, Hodja Effendi,' The Persian was very upset, `you are wearing a mountainous turban that signifies your learning, and you can't even read a letter?' Hodja considered for a moment and then took his turban off and handed it over to the Persian.

`Effendi, if it is the turban that does the trick, then be my guest, you wear it and you read the letter!'

Two Onion Stalks

Nasreddin Hodja planted two onion bulbs; one, he said, was for himself, and the other was for Allah. All the onions from Allah's stalk were to be given to the poor. Some time passed and the bulbs grew into two stalks. One day the Hodja went into his vegetable garden to pick two onions. He checked the stalk he had planted for himself, it had only empty, dried up bulbs. The one that was intended for Allah, however, was burgeoning with nice, large onions. He picked two onions from Allah's share. As he was shaking the soil off of the onions, an earth-shattering thunderbolt came down.

`Is all this fuss worth two onions?' the Hodja addressed the sky, `Here, I put them back, stop the racket!'

Interest

One day a friend asked Nasreddin Hodja to lend him some money.

`Hodja, I am a little hard up,' he said, `can you lend me some money with interest.'

`I don't have any cash,' the Hodja replied, `but I can lend you as much interest as you want.'

Donkey on Fire

One day the Hodja collected sprigs and twigs in the woods and tied them into a bundle. He was going to use them as fire wood in his home. After he finished loading his donkey, he started to doubt if these useless branches were going to burn well. He decided to try, just a tiny corner of the bundle on the donkey's back. But as soon as he lit the match, the sprigs caught fire and with the help of the blowing wind, the entire batch started to burn on the back of the poor donkey. The unfortunate animal, frightened, started to run away. Nasreddin Hodja, feeling terribly guilty, thought he should give the pitiable creature a little advice.

`If I were you,' he yelled from behind, `I would run towards the lake.'

Big Spoon vs Small Spoon

One day the Hodja and a couple of other people were invited for dinner to an acquaintance's home. It was a hot summer evening. The host brought to the table a large bowl of ice-cold cherry compote. He took a spoon as big as a ladle for himself and gave his guests small, dessert spoons.

`Let's dig in!' he said. But nobody could dig in as well as he could. The guests, with their small spoons, were not very successful in either enjoying the compote or quenching their thirsts. The host, on the other hand, was drinking the cold juice with his large spoon and after each spoon he was expressing his delight.

`Ahh, this is killing me!', he was saying, `Ahh, I must have died and went to heaven. Oh, this is so good, I am dying.' Nasreddin Hodja was not one to allow all the compote disappear before he had a chance to savour it.

`Effendi, why don't you give us that ladle so that we can die a little too!'

Old Moons

One day Nasreddin Hodja and a friend were admiring the sky and watching a new moon.

`Hodja Effendi,' asked the friend, what do they do with the old moons?'

`They cut them, trim them and turn them into stars!'

Cost of Feeding the Donkey

Cost of Feeding the Donkey

Nasreddin Hodja got poorer and poorer. He even had to economize on the donkey feed. He started to cut the amount of oat he gave to his donkey. After a few days, he noticed no big changes in the donkey, so he continued with his reduction program. Everyday he was giving a little less food to the animal. The donkey was getting skinnier and skinnier, but so was the Hodja. These were tough times. Thus the hodja carried on, and the donkey had to subsist on smaller portions of feed each day. One morning, however, when the Hodja entered the barn, he found his donkey dead.

`Ahh, ahh, my poor donkey!' the Hodja wailed, `Just as he was getting used to hunger!'