A man lies on his deathbed, surrounded by his family of a weeping wife and their 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 heaven he didn't ask about the other three."