Williams news., 1905-02-25
SUFFICIENT PUNISHMENT

SUFFICIENT PUNISHMENT With a solemn mein and an air sedate, St. Peter stood guard at the golden gate, When up to the top of the golden stair Appeared couple, and the married pair Applied for admission. They came and stood Before St. Peter, so great and good, In hopes the City of Peace to win, And asked St. Peter to let them in. The woman was tall and big and guant, Her corkscrew curls stood up rampant; The man was short. and thick, and stout, His stomach was built so it rounded out, His face was pleasant, and all the while He wore kindly and genial smile. The coons in the distance the echoes awoke, And the man kept still while the woman spoke: ''oh, thou who gaurdest the gate" she said, "We two come hither, beseeching thee To let us enter the heavenly land, And play our harps with the heavenly band Of me, St. Peter, there is no doubt There's nothing in heaven to bar me out, 1've been to meetings three times week, = And almost always I'd rise and speak. x I've told the sinners about the day Wren they'd repent their evil way; I've told my neighbors, I've told them all, About Adam and Eve and the primal fall; l Nc ouOWH tueu WudI they q nave to OO If they'd pass in with the chosen few; I've marked their path of duty clear Laid out their plan for their whole career I've talked and talked to 'em loud and long, For my lungs are good and my voice is strong. So, good St. Peter, you'll clearly see The gate of heaven is open to me: But my old man, I regret to say, Hasn't walked in exactly the narrow way He smokes and he swears and grave faults
 he's got,
 And don know whether he'll pass or not, He never would pray with an earnest vim, Or go to revival, or join in hymn, So had to leave him in sorrow there While I, with the chosen, united in prayer. He ate what the pantry chanced to afford, While I, in my purity, sang to my Lord; And if cucumbers were all that he got Itsa chance if he merited them or not, But oh, St. Peter, love him SO! To the pleasures. of heaven please let him go I've done enough-a saint, I've been, Won't that atone? Can't you let him in! By my grim gospel know 'tis so That the unrepentant must fry below; But isn't there some way you can see, That he may enter, who's dear to mel It's a narrow gospel by which pray, But the chosen expect to find some way Of coaxing, or fooling, or bribing you
 
 And say, St. Peter, it seems to me This gate isn't kept as it ought to be, You ought to stand by that opening there, And never set down in that easy chair. And say, St. Peter, my sight is dimmed, But l don't like the way your whiskers are
 trimmed;
 They're cut too wide and outward toss, They'd look better narrower, cut straight
 across.
 So open, Peter, and we'll pass inI" St Peter sat quiet and strokcd his staff, But, spite of his ofice he had to laugh; Then said, with fiery gleam in his eye: "Whos tending this gateway-you or I?". And then he arose in his statute tall, and pressed a button against the wall, And said to the imp who answered the bell, Escort this lady down to !" The man stood still as piece of stone, Stood sadly gloomily there alone; lifelong settled idea he had That he was good and that he was bad lie thought Ii the woman went down below That lie would certainly have to go That If she went to the regions dim, There wasn't ghost of a show for him. Slowly he turned, by habit bent To follow whertever the woman went. St. Peter standing on duty there, Observed the top of his head was bare,
 o S'AAou 'nc eehtieudn Dack ana said: "Frlend' how long have you been wed?" Thirty years," [with weary sigh.) And then he thoughtfully added, 'Why?" St. Peter was silent With head bent down. He raised his head and scratched his crown: Then, seeming different thought to take, Slowly, half to himself he spake:
 lhirty years with that woman there? NO wonder the man hasn't any hair; Swearing is wicked smokes no good ne smoked and he swore-I should think he
 would
 Thirty years with that tongue so sharp! do! Angel GabrielI Give him harpl A ]eweied harp with golden string. Good sir, pass in where the angels sing. Gabriel give him a seat alone, one with cushion on-up near the throne. Call up some argels to play their best, Let him enjoy the music and rest See that on the finest ambrosia he feeds Hes had about all of the hell he needs: It isn't just hardly the thing to do, TO roast him on earth and in future too" 50 they gave him a harp with golden strings And glittering robe with a pair of wings. And he said, as he entered the Realm of May "Weli, this beats cucumbers, anyway" And 20 the Scriptures had comes to pass: "Thc last shall be first and the first shall be
 last"
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