St. Peter stood guard at the Golden Gate, a smiling manianal an air estate. When up to the top of the golden stair a man and a woman assended there. The man was stout, short and fat. His head was bald, he wore no hat. The woman was lanky tall and thin. She wore a beardlett upon her chin. They both came and stood before St. Peter so good and great. The man kept still while the woman spoke, St. Peter as you know to the pleasures of heaven we wish to go.
Of me St. Peter, there is no doubt. There's nothing in heaven to bar me out, I've been to church three times a week and almost always I arise to speak. But my old man here I regret to say, he hasn't walked exact in the narrow ways. He chews, he smokes and swears, and never says his prayes, so if cucumbers were all he got it's a wonder if he married them or not.
But oh, St. Peter, it seems to me, this gate isn't kept as it aught to be. And say St. Peter my sight is dimmed, but I don't like the way your whiskers are trimmed. They should be cut narrow and straight accross, and never with that outwary toss. But come now St. Peter, open wide the pearly gates. So we may enter in where the heavenly angels sing.
St. Peter sat quietly all the while stroking his staff. But in spite of his office he had to laugh, then turning to her with a fierce gleam in his eyes, who's tending this gateway, You or I??? Then pressing a button upon the wall, he said to the imp who came all a glow. Escort this woman to the regions below. The man turned slowly with a habit bent to follow where ever she went. For he knew if she was not allowed within, there wasn't a ghost of a chance for him.
St. Peter softly called him back and said, say friend how many years have you been wed? Thirty years he said with a heavy sigh, then he thoughtfully added, why? Thirty years with a tongue so sharp, Oh Angel Gabrial give him a harp. A golden harp with silver strings, thirty years with that woman there, no wonder the poor man has no hair. Swearing is wicked, smokings no good, he smoked and swore I should think he would. To live on earth for thirty years, would be plenty tough, I'd have to say, this poor man has lived in Hell about long enough.
