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63 Why Djuha Never Got Married T O L D B Y R I V K A P E R E Z - G I N I O T O Y O E L S H A L O M P E R E Z They tell about Djuha—that’s H. usham, who’s called Djuha in Spanyol* —they called him H. usham Djuha. There are lots of stories about Djuha. One of the stories is about how he never managed to get married. Why didn’t he manage to get married? He really wanted to, but somehow it never worked out. Why? Because every time they suggested a young lady to him, he would do something foolish, and the young woman would realize that he wasn’t very bright, that he wasn’t to her taste, and she would pass up the offer. One day he met a matchmaker. “I really do want to get married,” he told him. “Perhaps you could give me some advice. How can I please the young woman you fix me up with?” The matchmaker thought and thought and finally came up with an answer . “You know, Djuha, I have a very fine young woman for you. I suggest we go together and meet her, as if I had just bumped into you in the street and you had tagged along with me. But listen to my advice. When the young woman comes in, she’ll be shy and sit in the corner. So from time to time you should cast an eye at her.” “What do you mean, cast an eye at her? That’s really a good idea, casting an eye.” They set a day. They set a time and a place to meet. Before then, though, Djuha went to the market, since he needed a supply of eyes to cast at her; one eye wouldn’t be enough. He went to the butcher and asked for some cows’ eyes. “Oh,” replied the butcher, “they slaughtered a lot of cows today. I’ve got a lot of eyes today.” “Give me a few.” * Judeo-Spanish, or Ladino. 562 “How many is a few? How many do you want?” “Oh, give me a dozen eyes.” “All right.” The butcher put twelve eyes in a bag for him and Djuha paid for them. On the appointed day he took the bag—he didn’t forget it at home—and met the matchmaker. They entered the house, where the father greeted them warmly. He saw that the lad wasn’t bad looking. True, it was Djuha, but not a bad fellow. After they had sat and talked for a while he asked his daughter to bring the matchmaker and the young man something to drink. The daughter came over with her tray and served them. She was the picture of shyness, serving Djuha his drink and then sitting back down in the corner. Djuha didn’t look at her. But he held on to his bag, and every so often he would take out an eye and cast it at her. “Ay!” The young woman was frightened. What was he throwing at her? He giggled, looked at her—he felt uncomfortable looking at a young woman—but he took out another eye and cast it at her, and then another eye. Another, and then another, until he had gone through all twelve eyes. The young woman was in a panic; her father couldn’t understand what was going on. Was the fellow crazy or what? He took the matchmaker aside. “By your life, tell me, is this man all there in his head?” “He was certainly all right when we got here. I don’t know what happened to him. I’ll have to talk to him.” “I see you brought a fellow who’s not worth a penny,” replied the father , “and, what is more, he’s a little tra-la-la—crazy in the head. Don’t bring me any more young men like that.” And he threw the matchmaker and Djuha out of the house. When they were outside, the matchmaker turned to Djuha. “Oh, Djuha, Djuha, there’s a reason they say you never managed to get married and never will. Look what you did to me today!” “Didn’t you tell me to cast an eye at her from time to time? That’s exactly what I was doing!” “Oh, you prince of fools! I meant cast a glance, not...

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