The Musical Donkey

A donkey and a jackal, friends by night, would slip through a gap in the hedge into a farmer's cucumber field and feast together, always parting before dawn to avoid trouble.

One fine night, the donkey — proud of his voice — announced that he wished to sing. The jackal begged him to stay quiet, reminding him that thieves, like lovers, do best to keep silent, and that his singing would only wake the farmers.

The donkey, offended at being called unmusical, launched into a long, proud explanation of the many rules and refinements of classical music, insisting he was far too cultured to be silenced.

The jackal, seeing there was no reasoning with him, quietly stepped away to keep watch instead — and the donkey brayed loudly across the field, exactly as the jackal had feared.

The farmers woke at once, rushed out with clubs, beat the donkey soundly, and fastened a heavy mortar around his neck before returning to sleep. As the battered donkey dragged himself away, the jackal called out with a smile: he had been offered fine advice and refused to take it — and now wore quite a "necklace" for his singing.