Nasruddin heard that there was a banguet being held in the nearby town， and that everyone was invited. He made his way there as quickly as he could. When the Master of Ceremonies saw him in his ragged cloak， he seated him in the most inconspicuous place， far from the great table where the most important people were waiting on hand and foot.
Nasruddin saw that it would be an hour at last before the waiters reached where he was sitting. So he got up and went home. He dressed himself in a magnificent sable cloak and turban and returned to feast. As soon as the heralds of the Emir， his host， saw this splendid sight they started to beat the drum of welcome and sound the trumpets in amenner befitting a visitor of high rank.
The Chamberlain came out of the palace himself， and conducted the magnificent Nasruddin to a place almost next to the Emir. A dish of wonderful food was immediatly placed before him. Without a pause， Nasruddin began to rub handfuls of it into his turban and cloak.
“Your Eminence，” said the prince， “I am curious as to your eating habits， which are new to me.”
“Nothing special，” said Nasruddin； “the cloak get me in here and got me the food. Surely it deserves it portion.”