A new bakery opened up on the main street in Aks¸ehir, the same road that Nasruddin and his classmates took on their way to and from school. The aroma of freshly baked bread, pastries, and other delicacies enticed the boys although none of them had any money to buy the tempting goodies.

To attract new customers, the bakery put up a large sign: TRY OUR HOMEMADE BAKLAVA. THE BEST IN TOWN. FRESHLY PREPARED EVERY THURSDAY. FREE SAMPLES AVAILABLE. Nasruddin and four of his friends went into the shop and asked to try the free samples. The kind baker placed a tray of baklava on the counter but before he could say ‘help yourselves’, five grubby hands had grabbed fistfuls of the sweetmeat and emptied the tray.

‘Thank you,’ they called out in muffled, chuckling voices as they scampered out of the shop with their mouths crammed full.

The next Thursday, the boys headed for the bakery but found that the sign had been modified. It now read: TRY OUR HOMEMADE BAKLAVA. THE BEST IN TOWN. FRESHLY PREPARED EVERY THURSDAY.

‘Can we have free samples of the baklava, please?’ the boys asked the baker eagerly.

‘We don’t give free samples any more,’ he replied, shooing them out like flies.

Every Thursday, for three weeks in a row, Nasruddin and his friends unfailingly stopped by the bakery asking for free samples, and got the same negative reply. On the fourth Thursday, when the boys appeared and asked for free samples, the baker lost his temper.

‘I’ve told you repeatedly that we don’t offer free samples of baklava any more. If I see you boys in my shop again next week asking for free samples, I will chase you out with a cane and then whip you on the street.’

The following Thursday, Nasruddin, with his pals in tow, went up to the bakery and asked: ‘Do you have a cane and a whip?’

‘No, I don’t,’ the baker replied, frowning.

‘That’s good,’ Nasruddin smiled. ‘Do you have any free samples of baklava?’

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Was Mullah Nasruddin Hodja a witty fool, a foolish wit, or merely an overconfident braggart who left people wondering if he said what he meant and meant what he said? No one knows for sure, but of one fact we can be certain: Mullah Nasruddin’s legendary ability to put a positive spin on his folly and capriciousness have charmed, entertained, and edified readers from the thirteenth century to the present day.

Read about more of his misadventures in Delshad Karanjia’s Teaching a Horse to Sing. 

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