During one very hot season there was a scarcity of water in the city.

One day, the Khoja was performing his religious ablutions: he washed himself all over with the exception of his left leg, but before that could be washed the water was all used up.

When the Khoja began to recite the customary prayers he stood on one leg like a goose.

"O Khoja Effendi!" cried the people, "why do you pray standing on your right leg?"

"I could not pray on my left leg," said the Khoja; "it has not performed the appointed ablutions."

_Tale_ 45.--"Figs Would Be More Acceptable."

Nasr-ed-Deen Effendi had some plums, of which he resolved to make a present to the Bey. He therefore took three of them, and putting them on a fine tray, he carried them into the royal presence, and duly offered them for the Bey's acceptance.

Being in a good humour, the Bey took the present in good part, and gave the Khoja several pence in return.

After some days the Khoja thought he would take something else to the Bey, and having some fine large beetroots, he set off as before.

On his way to the palace he met a man, who saluted him.

"What are you doing with all those beetroots?" said he.

"I am about to present them to the Bey," replied the Khoja.

"Figs would be more acceptable, I should think," said the man.

The Khoja pursued his journey, but as he went the man's words troubled him--"Figs would be more acceptable."

At last he perceived a fig-tree by the roadside, so, throwing away all the beetroots, he put two or three figs in their place, and having arrived at the palace, he presented them to the Bey.

But this time the Bey was not in a good humour.

"What madman is this," he cried, "who mocks me by the gift of a few worthless figs? Throw them at his head and drive him away!"

So they pelted the Khoja with his figs, and drove him out. But as he ran, instead of cursing his ill luck, the Khoja gave thanks for his good fortune.

"This is indeed madness," cried the servants of the Bey; "for what, O Khoja, do you return thanks, after this ignominious treatment?"

"O ignorant time-servers," replied the Khoja, "I have good reason to give thanks. For I was bringing beetroots to the Bey--large beetroots, and many of them--and I met a man who persuaded me, saying, "Figs would be more acceptable," so I brought figs; and you have cast them at my head. But there were few of them, and they are soft, and I am none the worse. If, however, I had not by good luck thrown away the beetroots, which are hard, my skull would certainly have been cracked."

_Tale_ 46.--Timur and the One-legged Geese.

One day the Khoja caused a goose to be cooked. He was about to present it to the King.

When it was nicely done he set off with it, but on the road he became very hungry. If the smell of it were to be trusted it was a most delicious bird! At last the Khoja could resist no longer, and he tore off a leg and ate it with much relish.

On arriving in the royal presence he placed the goose before Timur the King, who, when he had examined the Khoja's gift, was exceedingly annoyed.

"This Khoja is deriding me!" said he. And then in a voice of thunder he demanded, "_Where is the other leg?_"

"The geese of our country are one-legged," replied Nasr-ed-Deen, with much gravity. "If your Majesty does not believe me, be good enough to let your eyes be informed of the truth of what I say by looking at the geese at yonder spring."

As it happened there were a number of geese at the fountain, and they were all standing on one leg.

The King could not help laughing, but he called to his drummers and said, "March towards yonder fountain, and lay your drumsticks well about your drums."

The drummers forthwith began to drum, and they rattled away so heartily that all the geese put down their legs and ran off in alarm.

"O Khoja!" cried Timur, "how is this? All your geese have become two-legged!"

"It is the effect of your Majesty's wonderful drumsticks," replied the Khoja. "If you were to eat one of them, you yourself would undoubtedly become four-legged."

_Tale_ 47.--The Khoja Rewards the Frogs.

Khoja Nasr-ed-Deen Effendi had been riding his donkey for some miles. It was very hot, and the Khoja dismounted to ease his beast. At this moment they came within sight of a pond, and the donkey smelling the water set off towards it as hard as he could canter.

The side of the pond was very steep, and in its haste the donkey would probably have fallen in, but that the frogs set up such a terrific croaking at its approach that the beast, in alarm, turned sharply round, and was caught by its master.

The Khoja was not wanting in grateful and liberal feelings.

"Well done, my little pond-birds!" said he, throwing a handful of coins into the water. "Divide that among you to buy sweetmeats with."

_Tale_ 48.--The Khoja reproaches his c.o.c.k.

Once upon a time the Khoja was carrying his fowls in a cage to the city for sale.

As he went along he began to feel sorry for them.

"O my soul!" said he, "these poor fowls are sadly imprisoned. I will let them go a little." So he opened the cage, and the birds scrambled out.

One ran one way, and another another; but the Khoja contrived to keep up with the c.o.c.k, which he drove before him with his stick, the poor bird waddling hither and thither, and fluttering from side to side with distress and indecision pitiable to behold.

On seeing this the Khoja began to reproach him. "You never thought it would come to this, my fine bird, did you?" said he. "And yet what a wiseacre you are! You know when it's day better than the sun himself, and can crow loud enough for all the world to hear your wisdom."

The poor c.o.c.k made no reply, but waddled on with hoa.r.s.e cries and flapping wings.

"You're a poor prophet!" said the Khoja. "You know that it is morning in the middle of the night: how is it you could not foresee that you were to be driven to market? Thus--and thus!" And turning him at every corner by which he would escape, the Khoja drove the distracted c.o.c.k into the city.

_Tale_ 49.--Hare-soup.

One day there came a man from the village who made the Khoja a present of a hare.

The Khoja brought him in, treating him with all honour and hospitality, and gave him some rich and excellent soup.

In a week's time the man called again; but the Khoja had forgotten him, and said, "Who are you?"