Arizona silver belt., 1905-02-02
SUFFICIENT PUNISHMONT

 St. Peter stood guard at the golden gate When up to the top of the golden stair Appeared a 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. Pc, CT to let them In. The woman was tall and big and gaunt, Her corkscrew curls stood up rampant The man was short, and thick, and stout, His stomach was built so 1t rounded out, His face was pleasant and all the while He wore kindly and genial smile. The coons in the distance the echoes woke, And the man kept still while tho woman spoke: ''oh, thou who guardest the gate" said she, We two come hther, beseeching thee TO let us enter the heavenly land, And play our harps with the heavenly band. or me, St. Peter, there is no doubt There's nothing in heaven to bar me out, I've been to meetings three ,imes week, And almost always I'd rise and 'speak I've told the sinners about the day When they'd repent their evil way; I've told my neighbors, I've told them all, About Adam and Eve and the primal fan I've shown them what they d have to do If they d pass in with the chosen few; I've marked their path Of duty clear Laid out their elan 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, 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 a hymn, So I had to leave him in sorrow there While I, with the chosen, united in prayer. He ate what the pantry chanced to afford, While l. in my purity, sang to the Lord And if cucumbers were all that he got, It chance if he mcrited them or not But oh St Peter, I love him so! To the pleasures of heaven please let him go I've done enough-a saint I've been, Won't that atoney 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 me It's narrow gospel by which pray But the chosen expect to find some way or coaxing or fooling, or brbIng you So that their relations can amble through, And say, St. Peter 1t seems to me This gate isn't kept as 1t ought to be. You ought to stand by that opening there, And never ct down in that easy chair. nd say, St. Peter, my sight Is dlmmed, But I don't like the way your whlskers are
 trimmed;
 They re cut too wide and outward toss, They d look better narrower, cut straight
 across.
 So open, Peter, and wen pass in H St. Peter sat quiet and stroked his stan, But. spite of his ofiice. he had to laugh Then said, with a fiery gleam in his eye Who's tending this gateway-you or Iy'' And then he arose in his stature tall, And pressed a button against the wall, And said to the imp who answered the bell, Escort this iady down to v The man stood stin as piece of stone, sto,d sadly, gloomlly there alone; A lifelong settled idea he had That he was good and that he was bad. He thought if the woman went down below, That he 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 habii bent, To follow wherever the woman went. St. Peter standiag on duty there, Observed that the top Of his head was bare, He called the gentleman back and said Friend, how long have you been wed 7" Thirty years" with a weary sigh), And then he thoughtfully added, Why r" St. Peter was silent. With head bent down, He raised his hand and scratched his crown !; Then. seeming a different thought to take, Slowly, half to himself he spake Thirty years with that woman there No wonder the mau hasn't any hair; Swearing is wicked, smokes not good He smoked and he swore-I should think he
 would
 Thirty years with that tongue so sharp Ho Angel Gabriel Give him a harp A jeweled harp with golden string. Good sir, pass in where the angels sing. Gabriel give him a seat alone, One with a cushion on-up near the throne, Call up some angels to play their best, Let him enjoy the music and rest. See that on finest ambrosia he feeds. He's 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 So they gave him harp with golden strings And glittering roLe with . pair of wings. And he said, as he entered the Realm of May Well, this beats cucumbers anyway And so the Scriptures had come to pass The last shall be first and the first shall be
 last" Unbranded.
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