The Barber’s Clever Wife

There was once a barber who was so hopeless at his trade that he snipped his customers’ ears instead of their hair and nicked their chins instead of shaving them. Naturally, he got poorer every day, until at last there was nothing left in his house but his wife and his razor, and both of them were very sharp indeed.

His wife was a clever woman who was always telling him off for being so foolish. When she saw that they had not a penny left, she started scolding him as usual. The barber took it calmly. “What’s the use of all this fuss, my dear?” he said. “You’ve told me all this before, and I quite agree. I never did work, I never could work, and I never will work. That’s the truth of it!”

“Then you’ll have to beg!” said his wife. “I’m not going to starve for your sake. Go to the palace and beg from the King. There’s a wedding feast going on, and he’s sure to give something to the poor.”

“Very well, my dear,” said the barber meekly. He was rather afraid of his clever wife, so off he went to the palace and asked the King to give him something.

“Something?” said the King. “What sort of thing?”

His wife had not told him what to ask for, and the barber was far too muddle-headed to think of anything himself, so he answered carefully, “Oh, something!”

“Would a piece of land do?” asked the King.

The barber was glad to be helped out of his difficulty, and said that a piece of land would probably do as well as anything else. So the King ordered that a patch of waste ground outside the city should be given to him, and the barber went home quite pleased with himself.

“Well, what did you get?” asked his wife, who had been waiting impatiently. “Give it to me quickly, so I can go and buy bread!” You can imagine how she scolded when she found he had brought home nothing but a patch of waste land.

“But land is land!” said the barber. “It can’t run away, so now we’ll always have something.”

“Was there ever such a blockhead?” cried his wife. “What use is land if we can’t farm it? Where are we to get oxen and a plough?”

But she was a clever woman, so she put her mind to work and soon thought of a way to make the best of a bad bargain. She took her husband to the field and told him to copy whatever she did. Then she began walking up and down, peering hard at the ground. Whenever anyone came by, she sat down and pretended to be doing nothing at all.

Now it so happened that seven thieves were hiding in a thicket nearby. They watched the barber and his wife all day, and became sure that something mysterious was going on. At sunset they sent one of their band to find out what it was.

The barber’s wife beat about the bush for a long time, and made him promise again and again to keep it secret. Then she said, “Well, the truth is, this field belonged to my grandfather, and he buried five pots of gold in it. We’re trying to find the exact spot before we start digging. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

Of course the thief promised he wouldn’t. But as soon as the barber and his wife had gone home, he fetched his friends, told them about the treasure and set them to work. All night long they dug and dug, until the field looked as if it had been ploughed seven times over. But they did not find a single gold coin, or even a copper one, and at dawn they went off in disgust.

When the barber’s wife saw her beautifully dug field, she laughed out loud. She went to the grain dealer and borrowed some rice to sow, and he was happy to lend it, because he expected to be paid back three times over at harvest. And so he was, for there was never such a crop! The barber’s wife paid off her debts, kept enough for the household and sold the rest for a big pot of gold coins.

When the thieves saw this, they were furious. They marched to the barber’s house. “Give us our share of the harvest,” they said. “We dug the field, as you very well know.”

“I told you there was gold in the ground,” laughed the barber’s wife, “but you didn’t find it. I did, and there’s a pot full of it in the house. But you rascals will never get a penny of it!”

“Very well,” said the thieves. “Watch out tonight. If you won’t give us our share, we’ll take it!”

That night one of the thieves hid inside the house, meaning to open the door to the others once everyone was asleep. But the barber’s wife caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye and decided to lead him a merry dance. So when her husband, who was terribly frightened, asked what she had done with the gold, she said, “I’ve put it where no one will find it, under the sweets in the jar in the niche by the door.”

The thief chuckled. When all was quiet, he crept out, felt about for the jar and made off with it, calling softly to his friends that he had the prize. Afraid of being chased, they ran to a thicket and sat down to share it out.

“She said there were sweets on top,” said the thief. “I’ll hand those out first, and we can eat them. All this waiting and watching makes a man hungry.”

So he handed round what he thought were sweets, as well as he could in the dark. But the barber’s wife had filled the jar with all sorts of horrible rubbish on purpose, and when the thieves stuffed it into their mouths, you can imagine the faces they made! They swore they would get their revenge.

The next day they came back and demanded their share again, but the barber’s wife only laughed. “Take care!” they shouted. “You’ve fooled us twice now, first by making us dig all night and then by feeding us rubbish. Tonight it’s our turn!”

So another thief hid in the house. But the barber’s wife spotted him straight away. That night her husband asked, “What have you done with the gold, my dear? I hope you haven’t put it under the pillow?”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “It isn’t in the house at all. I’ve hung it in the branches of the neem tree outside. No one will think of looking there!”

The hidden thief chuckled, and when everyone was asleep he slipped out and told his friends.

“There it is, sure enough!” said the captain of the band, peering up into the branches. “One of you climb up and bring it down.” But what he could see was really a hornets’ nest, full of big brown and yellow hornets.

One thief climbed the tree. Just as he reached out for the nest, a hornet flew out and stung him on the leg, and he clapped his hand to the spot.

“You cheat!” shouted the others from below. “You’re stuffing the gold into your pocket! Shame on you!” It was very dark, you see, and when he slapped the place where he had been stung, they thought he was putting his hand in his pocket.

“I’m doing nothing of the sort!” said the thief. “There’s something in this tree that bites!” At that moment another hornet stung him on the chest, and he slapped that too.

“Shame! We saw you do it that time!” they cried. “Stop it at once, or we’ll make you!”

So they sent up a second thief, but he did no better. By now the hornets were wide awake and angry, and they stung him all over, so that he was slapping himself here, there and everywhere. “Shame! Cheat!” bawled the rest, and one after another they all climbed into the tree to get their share, and one after another they all began slapping themselves, until it was the captain’s turn. He was set on getting the prize, so he grabbed the hornets’ nest. At that very moment the branch they were all standing on snapped, and down they tumbled, with the hornets’ nest on top of them. In spite of their bumps and bruises, you never saw such a stampede!

After that the barber’s wife had some peace, because all seven thieves were laid up in bed. They were ill for so long that she began to think they would never come back, and she stopped keeping watch. But she was wrong. One night she had left the window open, and she woke to hear voices outside. She knew them at once: the thieves! She was terribly afraid, but she was not going to give in without a fight. She took her husband’s razor, crept to the side of the window and stood very still.

Soon the first thief began to climb in, very carefully. She waited until the tip of his nose appeared, and then, flash! She sliced it off as neatly as you please.

“Ow!” yelled the thief, pulling back fast. “I’ve cut my nose on something!”

“Hush, you’ll wake someone!” said the others. “Go on!”

“Not me!” said the thief.

“You bumped your nose on the shutter, that’s all,” said the second thief. “I’ll go.” But swish! Off came the tip of his nose too. “Dear me,” he said sadly. “There really is something sharp in there.”

“A bit of bamboo sticking out of the window frame, most likely,” said the third thief. “I’ll go.” And flick! Off came the tip of his nose. “How very strange,” he said, backing out in a hurry. “It feels just as if someone had cut the end of my nose off!”

“Nonsense!” said the fourth thief. “What cowards you all are! Let me try!” But he did no better, and nor did the fifth thief, or the sixth.

When it came to the captain’s turn, he said, “My friends, you are all hurt. One of us must stay unharmed to look after the wounded. Let’s come back another night.” He was a careful man, you see, and he was fond of his nose. So they crept away, very sulky. The barber’s wife lit a lamp, picked up all the tips of their noses and put them away safely in a little box.

Before the thieves’ noses had healed, the hot weather arrived. The barber and his wife found it too warm to sleep indoors, so they put their beds outside, feeling sure the thieves would not dare to come back. But the thieves did come, and they saw their chance. They lifted the wife’s bed and carried her off while she was fast asleep.

She woke to find herself carried along on the heads of four thieves, with the other three running beside her. She thought and thought, but she could not think of any way to escape. Then, as luck would have it, the thieves stopped to rest under a banyan tree. Quick as lightning, she grabbed a branch that hung within reach and swung herself up into the tree, leaving her quilt on the bed just as if she were still under it.

“Let’s have a rest here,” said the thieves who had been carrying the bed. “There’s plenty of time, and we’re tired out. She’s terribly heavy!”

The barber’s wife could hardly keep from laughing, but she had to stay very still, because the moon was bright. The thieves put down the bed and began to argue about who should keep watch first. In the end they chose the captain, since the others still had not got over losing the tips of their noses. So they lay down to sleep, while the captain walked up and down beside the bed, and the barber’s wife sat up in the tree like a great bird.

Suddenly she had an idea. She drew her white veil prettily over her face and began to sing softly. The captain looked up and saw a veiled woman in the tree. He was rather surprised, but he was a good-looking young man and very vain, so he decided at once that she must be a fairy who had fallen in love with his handsome face. At least, that was the flattering explanation he chose to believe. So he twirled his moustache and strutted about, waiting for her to speak. When she just went on singing and took no notice of him, he called out, “Come down, my beauty! I won’t hurt you!”

She still went on singing, so he climbed up into the tree to make her notice him. When he came close, she turned her head away and sighed.

“What’s the matter, my beauty?” he asked tenderly. “You’re a fairy, of course, and you’ve fallen in love with me. But that’s nothing to sigh about, surely?”

“Ah, me!” sighed the barber’s wife. “I think you are fickle. Men with long pointed noses always are!”

The captain swore he was the most faithful man alive, but the fairy kept on sighing, until he almost wished his own nose had been shortened too.

“I’m sure you’re telling fibs,” said the pretend fairy. “Stick out your tongue and let me look at it. Fairies can see fibs on a tongue as plainly as spots on a leopard.”

So the captain stuck out his tongue, and snip! The barber’s wife whisked out the razor and nipped the tip right off.

What with the fright and the pain, he toppled off the branch and landed with a bump on the ground, where he sat with his legs stuck out, looking as if he had fallen from the sky.

“What’s the matter?” cried the others, woken by the crash.

“Bul-ul-a-bul-ul-ul!” he answered, pointing up into the tree, because without the tip of his tongue he could not speak clearly.

“What is the matter?” they bellowed in his ear, as if shouting would help.

“Bul-ul-a-bul-ul-ul!” he said, still pointing up.

“He’s bewitched!” cried one of them. “There must be a ghost in that tree!”

Just then the barber’s wife began flapping her veil and howling. Without stopping to look, the thieves ran for their lives, dragging their leader with them. The barber’s wife climbed down, put her bed on her head and walked calmly home.

After this, the thieves decided that force would get them nowhere, so they went to court to claim their share. But the barber’s wife argued her case so well, bringing out the tips of their noses and the tip of the captain’s tongue as her witnesses, that the King made the barber his chief minister. “He will never do anything foolish,” said the King, “as long as his wife is alive!”

Where this tale comes from

This comic tale comes from Tales of the Punjab, collected by Flora Annie Steel with notes by R. C. Temple, in the 1894 edition cited here. Steel lived in the Punjab for more than twenty years and heard many of her stories from village women and children.

Stories in which a clever woman outwits a band of robbers again and again were told all over northern India. In the original, the King makes the barber his Wazir, the Persian word for a chief minister.

This adaptation changes a few rough moments, but retains repeated mutilation: the barber’s joke about cutting throats becomes nicked chins, and the wife snips the captain’s tongue with the razor instead of biting it.

Read the original: Flora Annie Steel, Tales of the Punjab (Project Gutenberg #6145)

Reading guidance: For mature readers. The comic narration includes cutting off nose tips and part of a tongue, attempted abduction, repeated violent threats and bodies used as court evidence.

A closer reading

The first deception converts the thieves’ desire for buried gold into actual agricultural labor. The gold is eventually produced by a crop, not dug up as treasure. Their later demand for a share complicates the joke: they did work, but did so to seize what they believed belonged to someone else, without an agreement to farm for payment.

Each later trick succeeds because the thieves interpret appearances through appetite, suspicion or vanity. They call a hornet sting an attempt to pocket gold, and the captain prefers a fairy’s love to the possibility that his captive has escaped. The wife’s skill is anticipating the explanation they want to believe.

The court finally receives physical evidence of repeated attacks, but the official reward goes to the husband whose wife has done the work. The last line recognizes her ability while making his authority depend on it. Readers can examine that mismatch without presenting the story’s mutilations as a model for resolving real disputes.

Try this with the story

For treasure, sweets, hornets and fairy, write the thieves’ mistaken interpretation beside the fact the reader knows. Then draft a court judgment that gives the wife explicit credit for her work and identifies the threats against her, without adding a new punishment scene to the original tale.

Think about it

• How did the barber’s wife get the waste land dug without paying anyone?
• Which of her tricks on the thieves did you think was the cleverest, and why?
• Why do you think the King made the barber his minister, and not the wife?

Related stories

• Bopoluchi the Clever Girl — another Punjabi tale from Steel where a quick-witted girl outwits a robber
• The Bear’s Bad Bargain — another tale from Tales of the Punjab where a quick-thinking wife turns the tables
• The Gardeners Cunning Wife — another tale of a wife whose quick thinking saves the day