Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Category: Misers

A KIND SPIRIT
The old man was on his deathbed, when the wonderful smell of a freshly baked cake reached his nostrils.
“Honey, could I have a piece of cake?” – he called out to his wife. “I would like to pass away, with the taste of something good on my lips.”
“No, you cannot. This cake is for the wake.”
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