One woman asked another how many times she’d been married. The reply was four. “Four times?” exclaimed the first woman, “why so many?” “Well, my first husband was a wonderful man who was a banker. But one day shortly after we were married, his bank was robbed and he was shot and killed.” “Oh, my dear, that’s tragic,” said the first woman. “Well, it’s not that bad. Soon after, I met a circus performer. He was a wonderful man, a really great guy, but he lived dangerously, performing his high-wire act without a net. One day shortly after we were married, a gust of wind blew him off the wire and he too was killed.” “Your second husband was killed too?! That’s tragic!” “Well, it’s not that bad. After the funeral, I started talking with the minister, we hit it off and fell in love. But shortly after we were married, he was walking to church one Sunday morning when he was hit by a car and killed.” “Three? Three husbands in a row killed? What a tragedy!” “Well yes, that was tough, but it’s not that bad. Shortly thereafter I met my present husband. He’s a wonderful man and I think this time it will really last. You see, he’s a mortician.” “A mortician? What does that have to do with it?” “Well, it seems obvious: one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go!”