Nasrudin was lurking near a tavern. He was penniless: and 
besides wine was forbidden to true believers.
   The sultan’s cup-bearer came out, carefully carrying a
delicate flagon of wine.
   They caught sight of one another at the same moment.
   ‘Honorable Saki,’ began the Mulla, ‘give me…’
   ‘Give you what, Mulla?’
    To ask for wine would be a direct admission that he drank it.
   ‘Give me…a piece of advice.’
   ‘Very well. Go and read a book.’
    Half to himself, Nasrudin muttered, Oh, no, that won’t do.’
   ‘Why not?’
   ‘Oh…er…I tried that, once.’