Golden treasures I contain, guarded by hundreds and thousands. Stored in a labyrinth where no man walks, yet men come often to seize my gold. By smoke I am overcome and robbed, then left to build my treasure anew. What am I?
A woman and her little girl were visiting the grave of the little girl's grandmother. On their way through the cemetery back to the car, the little girl asked, "Mommy, do they ever bury two people in the same grave?" "Of course not, dear," replied the mother, "Why would you think that?" "The tombstone back there said... 'Here lies a lawyer and an honest man.'"
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