eard the man humming these words as
he passed along the street, I said to myself, 'Except this Umm Amru were
without equal in the world, the poets had not celebrated her in ode and
canzon.' So I fell in love with her; but two days after, the same man
passed, singing the following couplet:

"'Ass and Umm Amr' went their way,
Nor she nor ass returned for aye.'

Thereupon I knew that she was dead, and mourned for her. This was three
days ago, and I have been mourning ever since." So I left him and fared
forth, having assured myself of the weakness of the gerund-grinder's
wit[2].

Here, surely, was the very Father of Folly, but what shall we say of
judges and magistrates being sometimes (represented as) equally witless?
Thus we are told, among the cases decided by a Turkish Kazi, that two
men came before him one of whom complained that the other had almost bit
his ear off. The accused denied this, and declared that the fellow had
bit his own ear. After pondering the matter for some time, the judge
told them to come again two hours later. Then he went into his private
room, and attempted to bring his ear and his mouth together; but all he
did was to fall backwards and break his head. Wrapping a cloth round his
head, he returned to court, and the two men coming in again presently,
he thus decided the question: "No man can bite his own ear, but in
trying to do so he may fall down and break his head."

A Sinhalese story, which is also well known in various forms in India,
furnishes a still more remarkable example of forensic sagacity. It is
thus related by the able editor of _The Orientalist_, vol. i., p.
191:

One night some thieves broke into the house of a rich man, and carried
away all his valuables. The man complained to the justice of the peace,
who had the robbers captured, and when brought before him, inquired of
them whether they had anything to say in their defence. "Sir," said
they, "we are not to blame in this matter; the robbery was entirely due
to the mason who built the house; for the walls were so badly made, and
gave way so easily, that we were quite unable to resist the temptation
of breaking in." Orders were then given to bring the mason to the
court-house. On his arrival he was informed of the charge brought
against him. "Ah," said he, "the fault is not mine, but that of the
coolie, who made mortar badly." When the coolie was brought, he laid the
blame on the potter, who, he said, had sold him a cr