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At one time the Hoca used to be judge of the village. His son was by his side to learn the office of giving justice to the people. A man came to complain: " Kadi, I had some garment fitted for me by the taylor. As soon as I dressed it and walked out in the street, the poorly sewn chalwar fell apart and, pardon me to mention, left me naked in shame, exposed to the crowd. I say, I must not pay the dressmaker." Very impressed, Nasrudin exclaimed: "You are right!" Hearing this verdict, the tailor rushed before the cadi to plead his case: "This crazy man brought his own scraps of rag and ordered me to sow them together. He leaned over my shoulder to annoy me with his advice and forced my hand to finish fast. I even pricked my finger because of him. At the end he couldn't wait, snatched it away and left in spite of my warnings. He must pay for the work!" The mullah was totally convinced. "You are right", he said. This verdict left both, seller and buyer, lost in wonder. After they left, the Mullah's perplexed son said: "But Father, they cannot be both right." Without hesitation Nasrudin agreed: "You are right, my son."

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