nuptial attire, looking at each other and seated on opposite sofas.  Thus they remained for two hours.  Some thieves happened to pass by, and seeing the door open, entered and laid hold of whatever came to their hands.  The silent couple heard footsteps in the house, but opened not their mouths.  The thieves came into the room and saw them seated motionless and apparently indifferent to all that might take place.  They continued their pillage, therefore, collecting together everything valuable, and even dragging away the carpets from beneath them; they laid hands on the noodle and his wife, taking from their persons every article of jewellery, while they, in fear of losing the wager, said not a word.  Having thus cleared the house, the thieves departed quietly, but the pair continued to sit, uttering not a syllable.  Towards morning a police officer came past on his tour of inspection, and seeing the door open, walked in.  After searching all the rooms and finding no person, he entered their apartment, and inquired the meaning of what he saw.  Neither of them would condescend to reply.  The officer became angry, and ordered their heads to be cut off.  The executioner’s sword was about to perform its office, when the wife cried out, “Sir, he is my husband.  Do not kill him!” “Oh, oh,” exclaimed the husband, overjoyed and clapping his hands, “you have lost the wager; go and shut the door.”  He then explained the whole affair to the police officer, who shrugged his shoulders and went away.[6]

A party of noodles are substituted for the husband and wife in a Turkish version of the tale, in the History of the Forty Vazirs. Some bang-eaters,[7] while out walking, found a sequin.  They said, “Let us go to a cook, and buy food and eat.”  So they went and entered a cook’s shop and said, “Master, give us a sequin’s worth of food.”  The cook prepared all kinds of food, and loaded a porter with it; and the bang-eaters took him without the city, where there was a ruined tomb, which they entered and sat down in, and the porter deposited the food and went away.  The bang-eaters began to partake of the food, when suddenly one of them said, “The door is open; do one of you shut it, else some other bang-eaters will come in and annoy us:  even though they be friends, they will do the deeds of foes.”  One of them replied, “Go thou and shut the door,” and they fell a-quarrelling.  At length one said, “Come, let us agree that whichever of us speaks or laughs shall rise and fasten the door.”  They all agreed to this proposal, and left the food and sat quite still.  Suddenly a great number of dogs came in; not one of the bang-eaters stirred or spoke, for if one spoke he would have to rise and shut the door, so they spoke not.  The dogs made an end of the food, and ate it all up.  Just then another dog leapt in from without, but no food remained.  Now one of the bang-eaters had partaken of everything, and some of the food remained about his mouth and on his beard.  That newly come dog licked up the