donkey brayed its love-brays at the top of its voice, until it ended with Karagöz losing his temper altogether.

Karagöz shouted at his donkey, saying: "Look here. Which of us is charged with selling this wood? You or I?"

The donkey gave its last bray, the bray of lost hope.

"What is that you say?" asked Karagöz. "You are the one who sells the wood? Very well! Then keep on with your braying and see what you can do. As for me, I shall stay silent."

But the donkey was determined to

do just as Karagöz did. And so they went on their way toward home without selling any of the wood at all.

Karagöz scolded his donkey and said: "What a very skillful salesman you are!"

And the weather kept growing colder, and accordingly poor Karagöz's nose kept grow-ing bluer.

At last they stopped, and Karagöz pulled up a handful of the thorns at the side of the road and said: "I see no reason why we should not light a fire to get warm,

even if other people do not want any warming."

Then he put the thorns in the middle of the firewood and lit the fire.

When the donkey heard the sound of the wood burning, it laid its ears back; and after a moment it felt the heat of the fire, tore itself loose, and set off running and braying madly. At last Karagöz stood watching the donkey, which was running at its utmost speed, and said to it: "You foolish creature! Listen! If you have a grain of sense, swerve first to the right, then to the left, and after that throw yourself into the lake!"