The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1906-11-29
Author of St. Peter at the Gate" Puts
End to His Life With a Bullet.

Enu 10 Ills Lie Wltn bullet.
Joseph Bert Smiley, author of st.
Peter a.. the Gate, lis dead. He was
found dying in the woods near Ken
dalvllle, ind with bullet hole in his
temple
About three months ago Smiley
went to the home of his parents in
Kendallville, to recover from illness
and a long strain of overwork He
never intimated that he contemplated
suicide. His parents were away We'd
nesday when Smiley left, taking
revolver with him. When they re-
turned search was instituted without
success.
A farmer found him Friday after
noon by accident in the woods three
miles. from the city The revolver
was under him and the bullet had en-
tered the right temple and passed
cut through the ear. Physicians af-
ter an examination were of the belief
that Smiley had shot himself soon
after leaving home Wednesday and
remained unconscious as found that
night, gall day Thursday and Friday
His poem brought him a national
reputation. 1t is given below:
Jst., Peter at the Gate.
St. Peter stood gtiard at the golden
With solemn mien and air sedate, i
When up to the top of the golden
stair 47.
A man and woman ascending there,
Applied for admission. They came
and stood =
Before St Peter, SO great and good,
In hope the City of Peace to VIM
And asked St Peter to let them in
The woman was tall and lank and
With scraggy ,beardlet upon her
The man was short and thick and
stout,
Ills StoihdSii Was buiit 81 IL iouiiuSi
out,
His face was pleasant, and all the
while
He wore kindly and genial smile
The choirs in the distance the echoes
woke,
And the man kept still while the
woman spoke.
"Oh, thou who guardest the gate,
said she,
I'VE two: come nither, beseeching
thee
To let us enter the: heavenly land,
And let us play our harps with the
angel band
OF me, ST. Peter, there is no doubt
There's nothing from heaven to ba.
me out -.
I've been TO meeting three times a
week,
And almost always I'D rise and speak
I've told the sinners about the day
When they'd repent of their evil way
I've fold my neighbors--l've told EN-
all
Bout Adam and Eve, and the Primal
Fall.
I've shown them what they'd have to
do
Ii they's pass in with the chosen few
I've marked their path of duty clear
Laid out the plan for their whole ca
reer. 49,
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 for 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't know whether he'll pass
or not.
He never, would pray with an earnest
Or go to revival, or join in hymn.
So l had to leave him in sorrow there
While |, with the, chosen, united IN
prayer.
He ate what the pantry Glanced to
AFFORD,
While |, in my purity, sang to the
Lord.
And if cucumbers were all he got
It's a chance if he merited them or
not.
But oh, ST. Peter, love him so
To the pleasures of heaven please LEI,
him go.
I've done enough saint I've been.
Won't that atone? Can't you let him
III? = ~
By my grim gospel know it's 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 7.
It's a narrow gospel which pray,
But the chosen expect to find SONS
way
Of coaxing or fooling or rbribing, you,
So that their relation can ambIe thru
And say, St. Peter, it seems to me
That gate isn't kept as 1t ought 10 be,
You ought to stand right by the open
ing there .a.qa 5,
And never sit down.in that easy chair