Groucho Marx Strange Relatives - Uncle Julius
I had an uncle named Julius, he was well over four feet.
And I was named after him, 'cause we were under some
peculiar impression that he had money. As a matter of
fact, my father wanted to throw him out of the house, but
my mother said "No, no, I remember, I read a story once
in which a man was supposed to be broke, and when he
died, he left a lot of money". So they named me Julius.
He never worked anyhow, he was just in the house, sitting
there. He finally died, and he left a will. His will
consisted of a celluloid dickie, an eightball, and three
razorblades. And besides he owed my father eighty-five
dollars, which he never did get from him.
Then we had a sister. She wasn't really our sister, she
was an adopted sister. The father of that sister had
gotten a look at this girl and fled to Canada, and we
never saw him again. But the girl stayed with us, and her
name was Polly. Polly didn't.. she wasn't a bad looking
girl, but her rear end stuck way out. You could play
pinochle on her rear end.