One day a thief got into the Khoja’s house, and the Khoja watched him.

The thief poked here, there, and everywhere, and after collecting all that he could carry, he put the load on his back and went off.

The Khoja then came out, and hastily gathering up the few things which were left of his property, he put them on his own back, and hurried after the thief.

At last he arrived before the door of the thief’s house, at which he knocked.

“What do you want?” said the thief.

“Why, we are moving into this house, aren’t we?” said the Khoja.  “I’ve brought the rest of the things.”

Tale 9.—­The Bird of Prey and the Piece of Soap.

One day the Khoja went with his wife to wash clothes at the head of a spring.

They had placed the soap beside them on the ground, and were just about to begin, when a black bird of prey swooped suddenly down, and snatching up the soap, flew away with it, believing it to be some kind of food.

“Run, Khoja, run!” cried the distracted wife.  “Make haste, I beseech you, and catch that thief of a bird.  He has carried off my soap.”

“O wife!” replied the Khoja, “let him alone.  He wants it more than we do, poor fellow!  Our clothes are not half so black as what he has got on.”

Tale 10.—­The Khoja and the Wolves.

“Wife!” said the Khoja one day, “how do you know when a man is dead?”

“When his hands and feet have become cold, Khoja,” replied the good woman, “I know that it is all over then.  The man is dead.”

Some time afterwards the Khoja went to the mountain to cut wood.  It was in the winter, and after he had worked for an hour or two his hands and feet became very cold.

“It is really a melancholy thing,” said he; “but I fear that there can be no doubt that I am dead.  If this is the case, however, I have no business to be on my feet, much less to be chopping firewood which I have not lived to require.”  So he went and lay down under a tree.

By and by came the wolves, and they fell upon the Khoja’s donkey, and devoured it.

The Khoja watched them from the place where he was lying.

“Ah, you brutes!” said he, “it is lucky for you that you have found a donkey whose master is dead, and cannot interfere.”

Tale 11.—­A Penny a Head.

The Turks shave their heads and allow their beards to grow.  Thus the Khoja went every week to the barber to have his head shaved, and when it was done, the barber held out the mirror to him, that, having looked at himself, he might place a penny fee on the mirror as the custom is.

Now as he grew old the Khoja became very bald.

One day when he was about to be shaved, passing his hand over his head, he perceived that the crown was completely bald.  But he said nothing, and having paid his penny, took his departure as usual.

[Illustration:  THE KHOJA IS SHAVED.]