The mother told her little boy, Nasrudin, that if he stayed home and behaved himself, she would bring him something from the store.
When she returned home, she asked him: "Well, were you a good little boy, Nasrudin?"
"Oh," said Nasrudin, "I was gooder than good. Why, I was so good I could hardly stand myself."
"Please, mister, will you ring that doorbell for me?" asked little Nasrudin.
The gentleman obliged with a beaming smile.
"Now, sonny, what else should I do?"
"Run like hell!" said Nasrudin.
A very voluble preacher was working himself into a frenzy during a sermon on hell and damnation. Little four-year-old Nasrudin in the congregation couldn't take his eyes off the wild figure in the pulpit. Finally he whispered to his mother: "What will we do if he ever gets loose?"
The four-year-old Nasrudin's birthday party was well organized the neighbourhood ladies, with games, races, and treasure hunts. In the midst of the confusion, little Nasrudin asked: "When this is all over, can we play?"
Father: "Remember, son, beauty is only skin deep."
Mulla Nasrudin: "'S' deep enough for me. I'm no cannibal."
The father was reading the school report which had just been handed to him by his hopeful son, Nasrudin. His brow was wrathful as he read: "English, poor; French, weak; Mathematics, poor; History, weak;" and he gave a glance of disgust at the quaking lad.
"Well, Dad," said Nasrudin, "It is not as good as it might be, but have you seen that?" And he pointed to the next line, which read: "Health, excellent."
A teacher attempting to broaden the outlook of her narrow-horizoned class, asked each student to write an essay on his views of foreigners. All turned more or less acceptable pieces except for hard-bitten young Nasrudin, whose essay in full was: "All foreigners are bastards."
The shocked teacher made us direct comment but devoted her next lecture to a description of Greek architecture, Roman law, English drama, German music, Italian poetry, Russian novels, Chinese philosophy, and African sculpture. She then