Art of begging

Beware the one who swells your pride. A flatterer gives nothing for what he takes. This reminds me of a story:

In those charming old times when Nasrudin was poor like the fleas in his beard, but still forever young and full of resource, a complicated chain of lucky and unlucky circumstances led his pilgrim path to the city of Ankara. There he exercised the temporary profession of begging for his daily bread.

And quite successful he was, among the other members of the charity-seeking fraternity. His unique feature, that made him notorious, consisted in only accepting the smaller coin and rejecting with disdain the larger, whenever he was offered such a choice. The fact is that he was offered many such choices, enough to eat well and sleep in an inn.

Inevitably, a truly alms giving Muslim had to take him aside to explain the mistake:

“Brother,” he said softly, “Why persist in error? You should take the larger coin. It’s worth more. Stop being the laughing stock of the town.”

Hodja whispered back with a friendly smile:

“Thank you, brother, for teaching me. Unfortunately that would stop my alms too. Don’t you see that people flock to give me coins only to see how clever they are compared with me?”