If this be the liver
Nasreddin Hodja was very fond of liver. But every time he brought some home, his wife would seize the opportunity and give a party to her friends. Come evening and the Hodja would again be fed some soup or rice.
The excuse was always the same: "Ah Effendi, that good-for-nothing cat of yours stole the liver and ate the lot!"
On one such night the Hodja could contain himself no longer. He sprang up, fetched the steelyard and tying a handkerchief around the cat's middle, weighed it carefully. Then turning to his wife:
- I thought so!, he said. The liver i brought home today weighed exactly one kilo. This cat here weighs one kilo too. Well, women, if this be the liver where is my cat?