Between an Indian raja and an Indian dhobie, or washerman, there is the greatest possible difference socially, but individually—­when both are noodles—­there may be sometimes very little to choose; indeed, of the two, all things considered, the difference, if any, is perhaps in favour of the humble cleanser of body-clothes.  A favourite story in various parts of India, near akin to that last cited, is of a poor washerman and his young ass.  This simpleton one day, passing a school kept by a mullah, or Muhammedan doctor of laws, heard him scolding his pupils, exclaiming that they were still asses, although he had done so much to make them men.  The washerman thought that here was a rare chance, for he happened to have the foal of the ass that carried his bundles of clothes, which, since he had no child, he should get the learned mullah to change into a boy.  Thus thinking, he goes next day to the mullah, and asks him to admit his foal into his school, in order that it should be changed into the human form and nature.  The preceptor, seeing the poor fellow’s simplicity, answered that the task was very laborious, and he must have a fee of a hundred rupis.  So the washerman went home, and soon returned leading his foal, which, with the money, he handed over to the teacher, who told him to come again on such a day and hour, when he should find that the change he desired had been effected.  But the washerman was so impatient that he went to the teacher several times before the day appointed, and was informed that the foal was beginning to learn manners, that its ears were already become very much shorter, and, in short, that it was making satisfactory progress.

It happened, when the day came on which he was to receive his young ass transformed into a fine, well-educated boy, the simpleton was kept busy with his customers’ clothes, but on the day following he found time to go to the teacher, who told him it was most unfortunate he had not come at the appointed hour, since the youth had quitted the school yesterday, refusing to submit any longer to authority; but the teacher had just learned that he had been made kazi (or judge) in Cawnpore.  At first the washerman was disposed to be angry, but reflecting that, after all, the business was better even than he anticipated, he thanked the preceptor for all his care and trouble, and returned home.  Having informed his wife of his good luck, they resolved to visit their quondam young foal, and get him to make them some allowance out of his now ample means.  So, shutting up their house, they travelled to Cawnpore, which they reached in safety.  Being directed to the kazi’s court, the washerman, leaving his wife outside, entered, and discovered the kazi seated in great dignity, and before him were the pleaders, litigants, and officers of the court.  He had brought a bridle in one hand and a wisp of hay in the other; but being unable, on account of the crowd, to approach the kazi, he got tired of waiting, so, holding up the bridle and the hay, he cried out, “Khoor! khoor! khoor!” as he used to do in calling his donkeys, thinking this would induce the kazi to come to him.  But, instead of this, he was seized by the kazi’s order and locked up for creating a disturbance.