A man lies on his deathbed, surrounded by his family:
a weeping wife and four children. Three of the children
are tall, good looking and athletic; but, the fourth
and youngest is an ugly runt.
"Darling wife," the husband whispers, "assure me that
the youngest child really is mine. I want to know the
truth before I die, I will forgive you if ..."
The wife gently interrupts him. "Yes, my dearest, absolutely,
no question, I swear on my mother's grave that you are
his father."
The man then dies, happy. The wife mutters under her
breath: "Thank God he didn't ask about the other three."
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