The Dying Judge
sent in by John Wood-Cowling
The old Scottish Judge was dying. The Judge lay in his
four poster bed propped up on his pillow's his wife Jean
sitting beside him.
Judge: Jean I'm slipping away I'm ready for the long
dark Journey.
Jean: I can see that James.
Judge: I have a wee confession to make.
Jean: A confession your no a Catholic?
You're an Elder of the Kirk?
Judge: Not that sort of confession, do you remember
those business trips I took to Glasgow twice a month?
Jean: I remember them well James.
Judge: Well they weren't business trips I was
seeing my fancy Woman
Jean: Well I always knew that.
Judge: You mean to tell me you have always known
about my fancy Woman???
Jean: Aye that's why I've poisoned you.
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