Nasreddin Hodja owed some money to a neighbour. The neighbour had asked for his money numerous times to no avail. One day he was at the Hodja's door again.
`Hodja Effendi, when are you going to pay my money back?'
`Look!' Nasreddin Hodja pointed out to a spot in his garden, `I planted shrubs over there.'
`They will grow this tall by spring.'
`All the sheep that pass by will brush against the shrubs and their wool will get caught by the prickly bushes.'
`Then we will collect the wool from the shrubs and my daughter will spin them into yarns. I will take those yarns to the bazaar and sell them. With the money I get, I will pay you back.'
At this remote and unlikely solution, the neighbour had nothing to do but laugh.
`You see,' the Hodja said when he saw the lender laughing, `your mood improved when you saw the cash on the nail.'