"When his hands and feet have become cold, Khoja," replied the good woman, "I know that it is all over then. The man is dead." Some time afterwards the Khoja went to the mountain to cut wood. It was in the winter, and after he had worked for an hour or two his hands and feet became very cold. "It is really a melancholy thing," said he; "but I fear that there can be no doubt that I am dead. If this is the case, however, I have no business to be on my feet, much less to be chopping firewood which I have not lived to require." So he went and lay down under a tree. By and by came the wolves, and they fell upon the Khoja's donkey, and devoured it. The Khoja watched them from the place where he was lying. "Ah, you brutes!" said he, "it is lucky for you that you have found a donkey whose master is dead, and cannot interfere." _Tale_ 11.--A Penny a Head. The Turks shave their heads and allow their beards to grow. Thus the Khoja went every week to the barber to have his head shaved, and when it was done, the barber held out the mirror to him, that, having looked at himself, he might place a penny fee on the mirror as the custom is. Now as he grew old the Khoja became very bald. One day when he was about to be shaved, passing his hand over his head, he perceived that the crown was completely bald. But he said nothing, and having paid his penny, took his departure as usual. [Illustration: THE KHOJA IS SHAVED.] Next week Khoja Effendi went again to the barber's. When his head had been shaved he looked in the mirror as before; but he put nothing on it. As he rose to depart, the barber stopped him, saying, "Most worshipful Effendi, you have forgotten to pay." "My head is now half bald," said the Khoja; "will not one penny do for two shavings?" _Tale_ 12.--The Khoja a Cadi. The late Khoja Effendi when he filled the office of Cadi had some puzzling cases to decide. One day two men came before him, and one of them said, "This fellow has bitten my ear, O Cadi!" "No, no, most learned Cadi!" said the other; "that is not true. He bit his own ear, and now tries to lay the blame upon me." "One cannot bite his own ear," said the first man; "wherefore the lies of this scoundrel are obvious." "Begone, both of you," said the Khoja; "but come back to-morrow, when I will give judgment." When the men had gone, the Khoja withdrew to a quiet place, where he would be undisturbed, that he might try if he could bite his own ear. Taking the ear in his fingers, he made many efforts to seize it with his teeth, crying, "Can I bite it?" But in the vehemence of his efforts the Khoja lost his balance and fell backwards, wounding his head. The following day he took his seat with his head bound up in a linen cloth, and the men coming before him related their dispute as before, and cried, "Now, is it possible, O Cadi?" "O, you fellows!" said the Khoja, "biting is easy enough, and you can fall and break your own head into the bargain."