"The Viziers' Feast" is a Turkish tale.

Once upon a time in Turkey, the villagers complained about their viziers, the local officials. "They never stop arguing," the people whispered to one another. "They'll argue about anything. They're all fools."

The viziers decided to prove they were not fools.

One spring day they walked through the village, and as they strolled, they talked peacefully among themselves. They smiled at the butcher, at the baker, at the blacksmith as they passed, and when they reached the outskirts of the village, they turned around to walk back. Just then, one of the men spotted something shimmering in the field.

"What's that?" the first vizier asked. They stopped to stare.

"It's a jewel," the second vizier declared.

They moved close to look, and sure enough, there lay a glistening jewel.

"Let us use this to buy ourselves a feast," the first vizier said. "We'll celebrate our comradeship."

"No, let us ..." the second vizier began, but then he remembered, and looked around.

"Why don't we ...," began a third, but he too stopped. And one by one they remembered they were not going to argue.

"A good idea!" said the fourth vizier. "Fine indeed," said the fifth, and soon all 10 men were nodding in agreement.

"We're no fools," said the sixth vizier as they walked to the cook's shop. When they smelled the kebabs on the grill, they sighed with delight.

"Here," said the seventh vizier, and he handed their jewel to the cook. "We would like to buy a fabulous feast."

"I can have a feast ready early this evening," said the cook.

"Send it to us," the viziers said, and they returned to the courthouse to await their meal.

The viziers sat in a circle, and just as the sun was setting, the porter arrived and set on the low tables dozens of delights — dumplings and puddings, dolmas and dates, and fresh breads. There were pilafs and pine nuts, apricots and cherries, and platters of fresh hamsi, their favorite fish, enough for all 10 viziers.

The viziers were overwhelmed. But just as they were about to eat, the ninth vizier noticed that the porter had left the door open. He turned to the fellow beside him. "Shut the door or our friends may see our feast and wish to share."

"You shut it," said the sixth vizier to the ninth.

The first vizier frowned. "Fine, but if you won't shut it, then you shut it," he pointed across the table at the eighth vizier.

"I'm not the one who ought to shut the door," the eighth vizier argued, and he turned to the fourth vizier, who said, "Not me." Before long, all 10 men were arguing, for no one wanted to stand up.

For several minutes the men argued, but then the 10th vizier, catching the scents coming from the food, raised his hand.

"Wait," he said. "Let us agree to this. Whoever speaks or stands up first must shut the door."

"Agreed," said every man, and they began to pass around the platters and bowls. No one said a word, and no one stood.

But just as the men had filled their plates, a dozen dogs, catching the scents, rushed through the door.

Still, not one man spoke, and no one stirred, for anyone who did would have to shut the door.

The dogs attacked the plates of kebabs first, and when they had swallowed every last piece of chicken and lamb, they gobbled bowls of rice and platters of eggplant, and syrupy baklava.

The men sat, silent and still.

When the food was just about gone, one of the dogs noticed that the 10th vizier's beard was full of crumbs. The dog leaped up and began to lick the tasty morsels.

The 10th vizier was thinking, "If I move or shout, they'll make me shut the door," so he did not speak or move.

Then the dog mistook the vizier's trembling lip for a nice piece of meat. He bit down hard.

The pain was so awful, the 10th vizier could not help himself. "Ooowwwwhhh," he cried.

Instantly the others sat up straight, and his neighbor cried, "You! You must rise and close the door."

The man frowned. Then, looking around, he began to argue.

"Look, the food is gone. There's nothing left. What's the use of shutting the door?"

And the viziers had to agree. So, one by one, they rose, and off they went, each one in a different direction, for they did not wish to argue again, at least not until tomorrow.