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Bobby was on his deathbed.  His wife, Juanita was maintaining a 
vigil by his side.  She held his fragile hand, and tears ran down her face.

Her praying roused him from his slumber.  He looked up and his pale lips 
began to move slightly. 

"My darling Juanita,"  He whispered. 

"Hush, my love,"  She said.  "Rest.  Shhh.  Don't talk." 

He was insistent.  "Juanita,"  he said in his tired voice.  "I have 
something I must confess to you." 

"There's nothing to confess,"  replied the weeping Juanita. 
"Everything's allright.  Go to sleep." 

"No, no.  I must die in peace, Juanita.  I  slept with your sisters, 
your best friend and your mother." 

"I know,"  answered Juanita.  "That's why I poisoned you." 
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Walk without rhythm and you won't attract the worm.
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