There was a young man in Akshehir who had inherited the riches accumulated by several generations of his forbears. Not being money-wise, he had squandered it all, and at the end of about a year there was not a penny left.

All his friends having deserted him, as is usually the case under similar circumstances, he was desperate. Then he remembered Nasreddin Hodja, the wise old man.

"What is to become of me, Hodja Effendi?" he moaned. "I have no money and my friends have deserted me!"

"Never mind, son," counseled the Hodja. "You will soon be alright. You just wait and see."

The young man's eyes brightened. "Do you mean, Hodja Effendi, that somehow I am going to get rich again?"

"No, I didn't mean that at all. What I meant was that you will get used to being poor and friendless."

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