There was this wealthy, elderly landowner. And he was a very conscientious landowner. Every day he’d ride out on his favorite donkey, named Yussef, and check on one or another of his properties. One day he’d check on his vast herd of cattle, and make sure they had clean water and good pasture, and make sure the people who took care of them had plenty to eat and good warm clothes. Another day, he’d ride out and inspect his mines, and make sure everything was correctly beamed and propped and that the overseers weren’t pushing the miners too hard. Yet another day, he’d ride out and check on his various farms, and make sure the farmers’ cottages were sturdy and not leaking, and that everything was going okay for them. And then he’d ride back home, and put Yussef away in his stable, and rub him down and feed and water him himself, because he loved that donkey and wanted to make sure he was well taken care of too. But, this wealthy landowner had no heir, and as he felt death approaching, he called his lawyer in to help him make a will. He told the lawyer, “See, there’s two people I’m thinking about leaving things to. One is my hunting guide. He’s got a little bit of property himself, and he manages it well, and he’s a very calm and reasonable man, so I think he’d really do a good job of taking care of my property and my tenants once I’m gone. But there’s also a peasant who’s been serving me faithfully for years, who even once saved my life from a rabid dog at the risk of his own. He doesn’t have any experience managing things on this scale, but besides leaving him enough money that he’ll be set for life, I really want to leave him something to show just how highly I think of him.” His lawyer thought for a while, and finally said, “I have it! You just have to follow the greatest commandment of all: Leave your guide with all your herd, and all your mines, and all your soil, and leave your knave your ass Yussef.”
