A lifelong, settled idea he had That his wife

A lifelong, settled idea he had That his wife was good and he was bad. lie 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 a ghost of a chance for liiin Slowly he turned ,by habit bent., To follow wherever the woman went. St. Peter ,standing on duty there. Observed that the top of his bead was bare, lie called the gentleman back ,and said. "Friend, how long hast, thou been wed?" "Thirty years," (with a weary sigh.) And then he thoughtfully added, "Why?" 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 spoke, "Thirty years with that woman there? No wonder the man hasn't any hair! Swearing is wicked, smoke's not good. He smoked and swore—I should think he would Thirty years with that tongue so sharp? Ho! Angel Gabriel! Give him a harp! A jeweled harp with a golden string! Good sir, pass in where the angels sing! Gabriel, give him a seat alone,One with a cushion, up near the throne! Call up son\e angels to play their best.