"Do you love me, Mulla?" whispered the girl.
"Of course I do," Mulla Nasrudin whispered back.
"Will you marry me then?" she asked.
"LET'S NOT CHANGE THE SUBJECT?" said Nasrudin.
Mulla Nasrudin in the upper berth was awakened by a persistent tapping from below.
"I am terribly cold down here. I wonder if you mind getting me a blanket," said a lady's voice.
"I have a better idea," the Mulla replied sleepily. "Let's pretend we are married."
"That sounds like a lovely idea," she giggled.
"GOOD," said Nasrudin rolling over. 'NOW GO GET YOUR OWN DAMN BLANKET."
Mulla Nasrudin constantly irritated his friends with his eternal optimism. No matter how bad the situation, he would always say, "It could have been worse."
To cure him of this annoying habit, his friends decided to invent a situation so completely black, so dreadful, that even Nasrudin could find no hope in it. Approaching him at the club bar one day, one of them said, "Mulla, Did you hear what happened to George? He came home last night, found his wife in bed with another man, shot them both, then turned the gun on himself!"
"Terrible," said the Mulla "But it could have been worse."
"How in hell," asked his dumbfounded friend, "could it possibly have been worse?"
"Well," said Nasrudin, "IF IT HAD HAPPENED THE NIGHT BEFORE! I WOULD BE DEAD NOW."
Mulla Nasrudin was round at his fiancee's home, having a serious talk with her father.
"Sir, I'd like to marry your daughter," he announced .
His girl's father looked at him.
"Have you seen my wife yet?" he asked.
"OH, YES SIR," replied Nasrudin. "BUT IF YOU DON'T MIND, I WOULD STILL PREFER YOUR DAUGHTER, SIR."
Mulla Nasrudin was in the home of his fiancee, being given the once-over by her parents.
"Tell me young man," said his potential mother-in-law, "if my daughter marries you, and I give her a substantial dowry, what have you to offer in return?"
The Mulla smiled brightly.
"I WILL GIVE YOU A RECEIPT," he said.
Everything was in readiness for the marriage