Elmore County Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1910-1915, 1912-05-04
At the Heavenly Gate
Mrs. J. W. Hughes
Mrs. J. w. Hughes

St guard the Golden Gate
With a N sedate
When upon the top of the golden stairs
and Brady assembled there,
Applied for admission and and stood
Before ST Peter and good
hopes the city of peace to win
To ask St. Peter TO let them in.
Garrett was sicktonguei and knew it too
He could talk like preacher and bray like mule
Brady was thick
His stomach built SO it rounded out
pleasant and all the while,
He wore a kindly gentle smile.
The chorus in the distance the echoes awoke
Brady kept still While Garrett spoke:
ooh thou that guardest the gate, said he;
We have come hither beseechng thee
To let enter the heavenly land
And play harps in the golden band
OF me- Peter, there doubt;
There's nothing in heaven bar
called water meetings every night in the week
almost always I'd rise and speak
| told those sinners thered be day
When gold grow their ground like hay
bought blooded cattle with their dough-
To show them how fat sassy they'd grow
got auto like Shot l
And these slow didn't catch
Over land they crazy; I'd sell John chunk,
Then slip James patent to that very hunk.
say old ST. Peter it
This gate isn't kept as it ought to be.
Joy CRATER; sell guys Wings
give things for nothing, for trouble it brings
might start kingdom, with king of all;
All, salty, don't you think have enough gall?
appoint you usher to bring the crowds
I'd git their money don't speak it too loud.
But say old st. Peter, at style you're NUT;
Wear your like Turver all full in the front;
And your beard WIDE and outward it flops;
Wear it like Roland whacked straight across
your suit it's old fashioned not stylish enough;
Steal Helfrch's gray yourself up;
that hat, git a duffy old rusty black;
Pull way like Cohorpe; got for cash
And say, about Brady Oh he's slow guy
send him below, he'd make fat fry
little old uncle Harry will be here
lie make dandy company for all those bad
The gall of the imp with his seventynine cents,
pulled Bradys thousands Mountain Homes fence
Down they think Brady and Harry's the thing
Give a in Hades Sing Sing.
Well l must be going, my to win,
So open, St. Peter, and I'll pass in
Peter stroked his staff
spite of his office he had to laugh
Then said a fiery CLEAN his eye,
| whose tending this gate you l?
And pressed button the wall,
And said to the imp that answered the bell;
Garrett will ride the blind baggage down to hell
all of those Mountain Home people line in,
let them kick him the shns;
And when they thro ugh let him wipe off the stairs
they pass heaven all lined up in pairs.
consoled, Harry your seyenty-nine cents;
least home o er the heavenly fence
people, bless them they've been grated enough;
Open up the bitches; turn the stuff
Let the town flourish, they've stood enough CUFF;
And say, Brady how long did you say
Those people stood for that yarn about hay?
five years, with weary sigh,
he thoughtfully added why?
st. Peter sat with head bent down,
He raised his hand and scratched his crown,
Then seemed different thought to take,
Slowly half to himself he spake
give years for money to grow like hay,
No wonder old Uncle Harry went gray,
a big like Garrett roasting him too
Hells too hot a place for
years with CARROTS sharp;
Angel Gabriel, bring the harps;
Jeweled harps with golden strings.
Make them all angels; fit them with wings.
Let them have any old thing they want,
Automobiles, horses, beautiful parks,
Skyscrapng buildings, and galore;
Make everything marble-yea, the floor
And when they ready to up above,
Make Brady captain in duties of love.
1t wouldn't be hardly the thing to do,
To them earth and in future
SO will be the water and hay
And we'll smile the realms of day.
Wen all raise glasses with voice we'll say:
Well, Brady beats Garrett any way