‘Hey, Mulla,’ shouted a haughty nobleman as he passed Nasrudin
on the road, ‘which of these turnings do I take for the capital?’’
   ‘How did you know that I was a Mulla?’ asked Nasrudin.
   The other had merely used the word at random, but wanted to score
off this bumpkin. ‘I can read people’s minds.’
   ‘Very well,’ said Nasrudin, making off, ‘read the way to the capital,
then.’