It happened once that a trader from a foreign land came to the town where Nasruddin lived. The trader liked to flatter people in hopes of making them buy his goods, and so he habitually called every man ‘Mullah,’ whether literate or not, whether he wore the Mullah’s turban or not.

Shortly after the trader arrived, he met Nasruddin in the market, and asked him, “Mullah! Could you tell me the way to the Governor’s palace?”

Nasruddin – who was not wearing his turban at the moment – looked carefully at the trader and said, “How do you know I’m a Mullah?”

The trader laughed slyly and said, “Oh, well, I’m a mind reader, you know!”

“Is that so?” said Nasruddin. “Then you can read my mind for the way to the governor’s palace.”