Lobster Salad - Newfoundland Story/TITLE> </HEAD> <BODY BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF"> <CENTER> <H2>Lobster Salad</H2></CENTER> <CENTER> <H4>As told by John Joe English</H4></CENTER> <P><H5> Last Saturday night I was invited by an old time friend of mine, <BR> To eat his lobster salad and drink his beer and wine.<BR> We drank a toast unto each other until the hour of two.<BR> My head was a kinda shakey and my legs was shaking too. <P> But, anyhow, I staggered home and I think my prayers I said.<BR> Anyway I was paralyzed when I got into bed.<BR> I dreamt I died and I went to Heaven, met St. Peter at the Gate,<BR> And found repentence for me was just a bit too late. <P> “You go out,” St. Peter said, “You know you can’t come in.<BR> You know you have to suffer for that awful guttoneous sin.”<BR> Now just then I turned away to hide my grief and shame,<BR> And I saw St. Peter’s clerk close by, he wrote “lost” above my name. <P> The next come in was a Hebrew, a friend whom I knew well,<BR> And I listened to the story that he had to tell. <BR> “Oh, goodly Father Peter, I come to you at last,<BR> And one request I ask of you if you would let me pass. <P> “On earth I kept up a clothing store and my clothes was good and strong,<BR> And to show you this nice little overcoat I’ve got, but I’ll fetch it along.”<BR> “You go out,” St. Peter said. “Very well you know,<BR> There’s little use for overcoats in the place where you got to go.” <P> The next that came was an old maid, she was bound to have her say,<BR> And she addressed St. Peter in a peculiar sort of way.<BR> “Oh, goodly Father Peter, I come to you at last,<BR> Just one request I ask of you if you would let me pass.” <P> “Oh, Blessed Father Peter, won’t you let me in,<BR> And give me a nice little place to myself away from those naughty men.” <P> “You go out,” St. Peter said. “No angels have grey hairs.<BR> You got no sons nor daughters so you cannot come in here.”<BR> The poor old maid turned away forever to repine.<BR> Like me and all the rest of us she centered in the line. <P> The next that came was Paddy, son of old Erin’s Isle,<BR> And he addressed St. Peter in a loving, gracious smile. <P> “Is this yourself, St. Peter, you’re looking so nice and sweet.<BR> Open the door and let me in and show me to me seat.”<BR> “Oh no, my boy, your case like the rest must be tried.<BR> You got to show a pass for it before you get inside.” <P> “Hurry up, St. Peter, or for supper I’ll be late.”<BR> He then took off the old slouch hat and threw it inside the Gate.<BR> “Go get that hat,” St. Peter said, “you sacreligious slouch.”<BR> Pat walked in, he shut the Gate and he locked St. Peter out ! <P> Through the keyhole Paddy cried, “I’m Skipper now you see.<BR> I’ll give up your key, St. Peter, if you’ll set our Ireland free.”<BR> Now, when I awoke my head was jammed between the bed and wall,<BR> My feet was tangled in the quilts and lobsters done it all. </BODY> </HTML>