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."