TALES OF THE TROUBADOUR

People all over the world having been gathering around the fire to hear storytellers tell their tales and weave their magic since -- well, for as long as we've been people.

RABBI WOLF OF ZBARAZ had a stern sense of justice. Far and wide he was famed as an incorruptible judge. One day, his own wife raised an outcry that her maid had stolen an object of great value. The servant, an orphan, tearfully denied the accusation.

"We will let the Rabbinical Court settle this!" said her mistress angrily.

When Rabbi Wolf saw his wife preparing to go to the Court he began putting on his Sabbath robe.

"Why do you do that?" she asked in surprise. "You know it is undignified for a man of your position to come to Court with me. I can very well plead my own case."

"I'm sure you can," answered the rabbi. "But who will plead the case of your maid, the poor orphan? I must see that full justice be done to her."

WHEN THE TIME CAME for naming their firstborn son, a husband and wife began to wrangle with each other. She wanted to name him after her father; he wanted to name him after his father. Unable to agree, they went to the rabbi to referee the dispute.

"What was your father's name?" asked the rabbi of the husband.

"Nachum."

"And what was your father's name?" the rabbi asked the wife.

"Also Nachum."

"Then what is this whole argument about?" asked the puzzled rabbi.

"You see, rabbi," said the wife, "my father was a scholar and a God-fearing man, but my husband's father was a horse-thief! How can I name my son after such a man?"

The rabbi pondered and pondered. It was indeed a ticklish matter; he didn't wish to hurt the feelings of the husband. So he said, "My decision is that you name your son Nachum and leave the rest to time. If he becomes a scholar, then you will know that he was named after his mother's father. If, on the other hand, he becomes a horse-thief, it will be clear that he was named after his father's father."

THE MASTER SAT AT THE crossroads quietly drinking his tea. A traveler approached from the west, a young gentleman obviously in a hurry to complete important affairs.

"You there," he called to the master, "How long will it take me to get to the city?" The master sipped his tea, and regarded the young gentleman in silence.

"I asked you a question, old one," the young gentleman repeated, hands on his hips. "How long will it take me to get to the city?" The master took another sip of tea, set the cup down. His expression changed not at all.

"What's the matter with you?" fumed the young gentleman. "Are you deaf, or just stupid? Bah!" He waved his hand at the master and started off down the road.

"One hour and twenty minutes," called out the master. The young gentleman spun around. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

The master smiled. "I couldn't tell you how long it would take until I witnessed how fast you could walk."

(How long will it take to accomplish anything? It depends...)

A CLEVER SMUGGLER came to the border with a donkey. The donkey’s back was heavily laden with straw. The official at the border was suspicious and pulled apart the man’s bundles till there was straw all around, but not a valuable thing in the straw was found. “But I’m certain you’re smuggling something,” the official said, as the man crossed the border.

Now each day for ten years the man came to the border with a donkey. Although the official searched and searched the straw bundles on the donkey’s back, he never could find anything valuable hidden in them.

Many years later, after the official had retired, he happened to meet that same smuggler in a marketplace and said, “Please tell me, I beg you. Tell me, what were you smuggling all those years?”

“Donkeys,” said the man.