Throughout his life, Santa was known for his miserly behavior. Now he was on his death bed. The doctor had declared that his moment had come and let him go home.
While resting on his bed, Santa whispered: “Where is my dear wife?” Mrs. Santa came near the bed, held his hand and said: “I am right here.”
Santa rested for a few moments and made another effort: “Where are my beloved children?”
The children came around and sat near his feet.
Another effort after a while: “Where is my dearest and only friend Banta?” Banta came near, sat near Santa’s head, tried to comfort him then said: “You want to say something?”
Santa nodded, made a final desperate effort: “When all of you are here, why the hell are the drawing room lights on?” and died.
While resting on his bed, Santa whispered: “Where is my dear wife?” Mrs. Santa came near the bed, held his hand and said: “I am right here.”
Santa rested for a few moments and made another effort: “Where are my beloved children?”
The children came around and sat near his feet.
Another effort after a while: “Where is my dearest and only friend Banta?” Banta came near, sat near Santa’s head, tried to comfort him then said: “You want to say something?”
Santa nodded, made a final desperate effort: “When all of you are here, why the hell are the drawing room lights on?” and died.
