asked the class tow rite another essay on foreigners.
With beating heart, she reached Nasrudin's paper. It said, in full: "All foreigners are bastards. Some are cunning bastards."
Nasrudin (who has eaten his apple): "Let us play Adam and Eve."
Small sister: "How do you play that, Nasrudin.
Nasrudin: "Well, you tempt me to eat your apple and I will give in."
Nasrudin, aged seven, asked to count in school, responded promptly: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, jack, queen, king."
Little Nasrudin pulled a very weed from the garden. "You must be pretty strong, Nasrudin, to pull out such a big weed," remarked a neighbour.
"Yes," agreed Nasrudin. "Do not forget that the whole world was pulling on the other side."
"What a boy you are for asking questions," said Nasrudin's father. "I'd like to know what would have happened if I'd asked as many questions when I was a boy?"
"Perhaps," suggested young Nasrudin, "You would have been able to answer some of mine."
The little boy, Nasrudin, would not take his medicine. His father was trying to persuade him.
"Come on, Nasrudin," said his father. "I don't like medicine any better than you, but I just make up my mind that I'll take it, and I do. It's just a question of will power."
"Well, when I have got medicine to take," said Nasrudin, "I just make up my mind that I won't take it, and I don't."
It seemed to the father of Mulla Nasrudin that, now that his son had turned thirteen, it was important to discuss these matters which an adolescent ought to know about life.
So he called Nasrudin into the study one evening, shut the door careful, and said with impressive dignity: "Son, I would like to discuss the facts of life with you."
"Sure thing, Dad," said Nasrudin. "What do you want to know?"
"Will you marry me, darling?" asked Mulla Nasrudin.
"Before I give you my answer," the young lady said, "I'd like to ask you one question: Do you ever drink anything?"
"Yes," said the young Nasrudin rather proudly, "Anything."