A final thought

THERE was an old Sussex villager who was reported to be dying. The rector hurried to his cottage and asked him if there was any way in which he could help.

Said the villager: ‘Well, sir, a-layin’ here week arter week, I gets a powerful lot of thoughts runs though my head, and I thought mebbe you could help me.’

‘Why, of course my dear friend,’ said the rector. ‘Now tell me all about it.’

‘Why, sir, what I wants to know is this: Do you think they little pigs o’ mine does best on barley meal or beans?’

That night he passed away.