"Yes," I says, "a distant relative."
"How distant?" she says.
"As distant as they can keep me," says I.
"Have you any poor relatives?" says she.
"None that know me," says I.
That got her mad. She says:
"If I were your wife, I would put poison in your coffee."
"And if I was your husband," says I, "I'd drink it."
The other day I met Charlie de Hopen Dagen, the Scotchman, who had just enlisted for service in the Philippines.