The Jasper weekly courier. [volume] (Jasper, Ind.) 1858-1922, 1909-06-04
St. Peter at the Gate.
(By Bert Smiley.)

The woman was tall and lank and thin
With scraggy beardet upon her chin;
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 chors in the stance the echoes woke,
And the man kept still while the woman spoke
Oh thou who guardest the gate" said she
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 is nothing from heaven TO bar me out.
I've been to meeting three times week,
And almost always I'D raise and speak;
I've told the sinners about the day
When they d repent Of their evil way;
I've told my neghbors-Ive told them all
Bout Adam and Eve, and the Primal Fall;
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 the plan for their whole career;
I've talked and talked to them loud and long,
For my lungs good and my voice is strong
So good St Peter you will surely 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't know whether he pass or not
He never would pray with earnest vim,
Or go TO revival, or join hymn
So have to leave him in sorrow there
While l. with the chosen. unite in prayer.
He ate what the pantry chanced 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 let him go
live done enough, "a saint I've been
Won't that atone? Can't you let him in?
By grim gospel, know It's so
That the unrepentant must Try below,
But isn't there some way that you can see
That he may enter who's dear to me!
It's narrow gospel which pray,
But the chosen expect to find some way
OF coaxing or fooling or brlblng you,
So that their relations can amble through.
And say, ST. Peter, it seems to me
That gate isn't kept it ought to be;
You ought to stand right by the opening there
And never sit down in that easy chalr
And say, ST. Peter, my sight is dmmed.
But don t like the way your whlskers are trimmeu'
THEY'RE cut too wide, and outward toss;
They'd look much better, cut straight across
Well. we must be going our crowns to win.
So open, ST. Peter, and well pass IN.
St Peter sat quiet and stroked his staff.
But, in spite of his office, he had to laugh
Then said, with fiery CLEAN in his eye:
Who's tending this gate, you or II
And then he arose in his stature tall
And pressed button upon the WALL
And said to the imp that answered the bell:
Escort this female around to hell
The man stood still as piece of stone
Stood sadly, gloomy, Alone
lfe long settled idea he had:
That his wife was good and he was bad;
He thought that if the woman went down below
That he would certainly have to go
That if she went to the region dim
There wasn't ghost of show for him.
Slowly he turned. by habit bent,
To follow wherever the woman went
st Peter standing on duty there,
Observed that the top of his head was bare
He called the gentleman back and said:
Friend, how long I'VE you been wed!
Thirty years." with weary sight
And then he thoughtfully added, Why"
St. Peter was silent, with head bent down
He raised his hat and scratched his crown
Then seeming different thought to take,
Slowly half to himself, he spake:
Thirty years with that woman there!
No wonder the man hasn't got any hair!
Swearing is wicked -smoking's no good
He smoked and he swore, Il should think he would!
Thirty years with that tongue so sharp!
Ho! Angel Gabriel. give him harpl
A ieweled harp with golden string!
Good SIR pass in where the angels singl
Gabriel, give him seat alone
One with cushion up near the throne!
Call up some angels to play their best,
Let him enjoy the music and rest;