M. Gaulard felt the sun so hot in the midst of a field at noontide in August that he asked of those about him, “What means the sun to be so hot? How should it not keep its heat till winter, when it is cold weather?” * * * * * A proctor, discoursing with M. Gaulard, told him that a dumb, deaf, or blind man could not make a will but with certain additional forms. “I pray you,” said the Sieur, “give me that in writing, that I may send it to a cousin of mine who is lame.” * * * * * One day a friend visited the Sieur and found him asleep in his chair. “I slept,” said he, “only to avoid idleness; for I must always be doing something.” The Abbé of Poupet complained to him that the moles had spoiled a fine meadow, and he could find no remedy for them. “Why, cousin,” said M. Gaulard, “it is but paving your meadow, and the moles will no more trouble you.” * * * * * M. Gaulard had a lackey belonging to Auvergne, who robbed him of twelve crowns and ran away, at which he was very angry, and said he would have nothing that came from that country. So he ordered all that was from Auvergne to be cast out of the house, even his mule; and to make the animal more ashamed, he caused his servants to take off its shoes and its saddle and bridle. * * * * * Among the cases decided by a Turkish Kází, two men came before him one of whom complained that the other had almost bit his ear off. The accused denied this, and declared that the fellow had bit his own ear. After pondering the matter for some time, the judge told them to come again two hours later. Then he went into his private room, and attempted to bring his ear and his mouth together; but all he did was to fall backwards and break his head. Wrapping a cloth round his head, he returned to court, and the two men coming in again presently, he thus decided the question: “No man can bite his own ear, but in trying to do so he may fall down and break his head.” * * * * * The typical noodle of the Turks, the Khoja Nasru ’d-Dín, quoted above as Cogia Nasr Eddin Effendi, is said to have been a subject of the independent prince of Karaman, at whose capital, Konya, he resided, and he is represented as a contemporary of Timúr (Tamerlane), in the middle of the fourteenth century. The pleasantries which are ascribed to him are for the most part common to all countries, but some are probably of genuine Turkish origin. To cite a few specimens: The Khoja’s wife said to him one day, “Make me a present of a kerchief of red Yemen silk, to put on my head.” The Khoja stretched out his arms and said, “Like that? Is that large enough?” On her replying in the affirmative he ran off to the bazaar, with his arms still stretched out, and meeting a man on the road, he bawled to him, “Look where you are going, O man, or you will cause me to lose my measure!”