One night the Hodja was unable to sleep, no matter how many sheep he counted. After a time he gave up, because the more he tried to sleep the more wide awake he became. He got up and took a seat beside the window overlooking his courtyard.

While he was admiring the moonlit night and watching some clouds racing in the sky, he caught sight of a large, dark object at the farther end of the courtyard. It looked very much like a man and could well be a burglar! He ran into his room, took his bow and an arrow, and tiptoed back to the window. The man was still there. He took careful aim and let go.

"Just a single arrow from a master archer should be enough for any man," he said contentedly, and went back to bed, falling asleep immediately.

The first thing in the morning, he ran out to the courtyard. What he saw there was not a man at all, but his own black robe fluttering in the wind. His wife had washed it the day before and hung it up to dry. When he saw that there was a neat hole in the robe exactly where his navel would have been if he had been wearing it, he went down on his knees thanking God for preserving him.

His wife, unaware of the averted calamity, couldn't make anything out of this exhibition so early in the morning.

"What's the matter, Hodja Effendi?" she inquired. "What are you thankful for?"

"Why, my dear, don't you see how my robe has been pierced by an arrow? What if I had been in it, then. Imagine the calamity!"

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