The Goose, the Eye, the Daughter, and the Arm
A Turk decided to have a feast, so he killed and stuffed a goose and
took it to the baker to be roasted. The Cadi of the village happened
to pass by the oven as the baker was basting the goose, and was
attracted by the pleasant and appetizing odor. Approaching the baker,
the Cadi said it was a fine goose; that the smell of it made him quite
hungry, and suggested that he had better send it to his house. The
baker expostulated, saying: "I cannot; it does not belong to me."
The Cadi assured him that was no difficulty. "You tell Ahmet, the
owner of the goose, that it flew away."
"Impossible!" said the baker. "How can a roasted goose fly away? Ahmet
will only laugh at me, your Worship, and I will be cast into prison."
"Am I not a Judge?" said the Cadi, "fear nothing."
At this the baker consented to send the goose to the Cadi's house.
When Ahmet came for his goose the baker said: "Friend, thy goose has
flown."
"Flown?" said Ahmet, "what lies! Am I thy grandfather's grandchild
that thou shouldst laugh in my beard?"
Seizing one of the baker's large shovels, he lifted it to strike him,
but, as fate would have it, the handle put out the eye of the baker's
boy, and Ahmet, frightened at what he had done, ran off, closely
followed by the baker and his boy, the latter crying: "My eye!"
In his hurry Ahmet knocked over a child, killing it, and the father of
the child joined in the chase, calling out: "My daughter!"
Ahmet, well-nigh distracted, rushed into a mosque and up a minaret. To
escape his pursuers he leaped from the parapet, and fell upon a
vender who was passing by, breaking his arm. The vender also began
pursuing him, calling out: "My arm!"
Ahmet was finally caught and brought before the Cadi, who no doubt was
feeling contented with the world, having just enjoyed the delicious
goose.
The Cadi heard each of the cases brought against Ahmet, who in turn
told his case truthfully as it had happened.
"A complicated matter," said the Cadi. "All these misfortunes come
from the flight of the goose, and I must refer to the book of the law
to give just judgment."
Taking down a ponderous manuscript volume, the Cadi turned to Ahmet
and asked him what number egg the goose had been hatched from. Ahmet
said he did not know.
"Then," replied the Cadi, "the book writes that such a phenomenon was
possible. If this goose was hatched from the seventh egg, and the
hatcher also from the seventh egg, the book writes that it is possible
for a roasted goose, under those conditions, to fly away."
"With reference to your eye," continued the Cadi, addressing the
baker's lad, "the book provides punishment for the removal of two
eyes, but not of one, so if you will consent to your other eye being
taken out, I will condemn Ahmet to have both of his removed."
The baker's lad, not appreciating the force of this argument, withdrew
his claim.
Then turning to the father of the dead child, the Cadi explained that
the only provision for a case like this in the book of the law, was
that he take Ahmet's child in its place, or if Ahmet had not a child,
to wait till he got one. The bereaved parent not taking any interest
in Ahmet's present or prospective children, also withdrew his case.
These cases settled, there remained but the vender's, who was wroth at
having his arm broken. The Cadi expatiated on the justice of the law
and its far-seeing provisions, that the vender at least could claim
ample compensation for having his arm broken. The book of the law
provided that he should go to the very same minaret, and that Ahmet
must station himself at the very same place where he had stood when
his arm was broken; and that he might jump down and break Ahmet's arm.
"But be it understood," concluded the Cadi, "if you break his leg
instead of his arm, Ahmet will have the right to delegate some one to
jump down on you to break your leg."
The vender not seeing the force of the Cadi's proposal, also withdrew
his claim.
Thus ended the cases of the goose, the eye, the daughter, and the
arm.