| 
 Connubial ConnivanceJoseph Thompson
 [Reprinted from an undated pamphlet, Simple Talks
          on Taxation, published by the author]
 
 
 
            
              | Honey, I've just thought up a brilliant idea! How'd you like to
                make over Fifty thousand dollars?
 "You're
                not going to make some crazy investment, are you?
 Hey! Don't be so suspicious
                of my financial genius!
 Well,
                why did you ask such a silly question?
 Because there's a matter of
                Fifty thousand dollars that you can get if you use my idea, or
                lose, if you don't.
 What
                do you mean?
 Well, you know that I had
                Six hundred thousand dollars when we were married and that it
                was all mine.
 Well.
 And you know that I'm one
                of those robust, healthy fellers that often surprise their
                families and friends by suddenly dropping dead.
 Don't
                be silly.
 And if I drop dead, you'd
                be my heir.
 I
                hope so.
 And, as the Six hundred
                thousand isn't community property, you'd inherit it from me.
 Oh,
                let's not talk about you dropping dead.
 You're very sweet, to want
                to quit, but just one word more. You'd have a whale of a tax on
                the Six hundred thousand. Seventy-two thousand and fifty
                dollars, to be exact.
 I
                suppose so. But I don't see how it can be avoided.
 That's where your genius of
                a husband comes in. I do. At least to the extent of Fifty-one
                thousand, eight hundred dollars.
 Goodness!
                Is there something that we ought to do?
 Sure. But you might think
                it was a little drastic.
 If
                it would save all that money, what is it that we ought to do?
 Get divorced.
 Get
                divorced!
 Oh, I mean in a nice way,
                of course. You'd go to Reno for a few weeks. I wouldn't contest.
                We'd make a property settlement, and -
 What
                on earth are you talking about?
 Dearest, it's this way. If
                you inherit the Six hundred thousand now, the government is
                going to hold you up for Seventy-two thousand and Fifty dollars.
                But there is no tax on a property settlement. No matter what you
                get from me, there's no tax on a property settlement.
 But
                getting a divorce!
 Wait a minute. You will
                demand a considerable sum - three hundred thousand dollars - it
                might be that I will have to arrange to be caught in "flagrante
                delicti" or whatever it is, so your demand would be big,
                and I would submit rather than endure unpleasant publicity -
 Are
                you crazy?
 Let me finish. Now there'd
                be two estates, and when I die you'll only pay taxes on my
                estate. That would be Twenty thousand, two hundred and fifty,
                instead of Seventy-two thousand.
 Yes,
                but we'd be divorced!
 Oh, that. It would only be
                for a little while, then we'd re-marry, put our two estates in a
                trust, and good, kind old Uncle Sam would make us a wedding
                present of Fifty-one thousand, eight hundred dollars!
 Well,
                I think your idea is horrid! And besides, when we re-married,
                we'd be right back where we were before.
 No. We wouldn't. Between us
                we'd have the Six hundred thousand, but one-half would be yours
                and one-half would be mine. Then all I would have to do is die,
                and you'd soon see the value of my idea.
 What
                if I decided not to re-marry you?
 That is an unthinkable,
                intolerable and untenable hypothesis! To begin with, you'd lose
                over Seventy-two thousand dollars. Then, though broken-hearted,
                I'd marry - someone else, of course. She and I would go through
                the same routine - get divorced and remarry. It's as simple as
                that!
 That
                nice Mr. Willard lives in Reno, doesn't he?
 Yes. But why do you ask?
 Oh,
                I don't know. Just wondering what I'd do up there, I suppose.
 
 
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