One day, the king decided to go fishing.
He asked his influential court meteorologist whether there would be rain that day.
The esteemed scholar, handsomely paid and richly qualified, replied with confidence: no rain in sight.
So the king and queen set off for the lake.
Along the way, they encountered a man riding a donkey, fishing rod in hand.
The king asked whether the fish were biting.
The fisherman replied yes, but strongly advised the monarch to turn back — heavy rain was imminent.
The king replied that his court meteorologist, academically credentialed, had predicted precisely the opposite — and that he placed his trust in the meteorologist and in science.
Upon arriving at the lake, it poured down in torrents.
The king and queen were drenched from head to toe.
Enraged, the king dismissed the meteorologist and summoned the fisherman, offering him his post at court.
The fisherman declined: “Your Majesty, I know nothing of meteorology. I simply look at my donkey’s ears: if they are drooping, it is sure to rain.”
Impressed by the method’s accuracy, the king appointed the donkey as the official royal meteorologist.
Thus began the custom of assigning influential government posts to asses — a tradition which, as we all know, continues unabated to this day.