Ali, who was working a longway from home, wanted to send a letter to his wife ,but he could neither readnor write, and he had to work all day, so he could only look for somebody towrite his letter late at night. At last he found the house of a letter-writerwhose name was Nasredin.
Nasredin was already in bed. ‘It is late,’ he said. ‘What doyou want?’ ‘I want you to write a letter to my wife,’ said Ali. Nasredin wasnot pleased. He thought for a few seconds and then said, ‘Has the letter got toso far?’
‘What does that matter?’ answered Ali.
‘Well, my writing is so strange that only I can read it , and if I have totravel a long way to read your letter to your wife , it will cost you a lot ofmoney.’
Ali went awayquickly.