An old mountaineer named Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining a candlelight vigil by his side.
She held his fragile hand, tears running down her face.
Her praying roused him from his slumber. He looked up and his pale lips
began to move slightly.
"Becky my darlin’ he whispered.
“Hush my love,” she said. “Rest, don’t talk.” He was insistent. “Becky,” he said in his tired voice, “I have something that I must confess.”
There’s nothing to confess," replied the weepin’ Becky, “Everything’s all right, go to sleep now ya hear.”
“No, no. I must die in peace, Becky. I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!”
“I know sweetheart,” whispered Becky, “just be still and let the poison work.”