One day the Hodja was re-tiling his roof, which had been leaking no end all winter. The weather was warm and he was perspiring profusely. At the precise moment when he was taking a short rest near the edge of the roof and wiping the sweat off his face, he noticed somebody down in the street mumbling unintelligibly and gesticulating wildly for him to come down.

It must be something very urgent, or he wouldn't ask me so earnestly to come down, thought the Hodja. Hastening down, he nearly fell and broke his neck.

At the door stood a man in rags. "Hodja Effendi, I am a poor man, " he was saying. "I have a wife and four children to support. In the name of Allah, I beg you to help me!"

The Hodja was speechless with rage. Then he waved to the beggar to follow him. They went up and up, and when they were at last on the roof, the Hodja turned on the beggar and said:

"I am a poor man myself, and therefore I am unable to help you. You can get down unescorted. Good day!"

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