64 
Saint Peter's Gate. 
A Camp-fire Story, 
The idea of St. Peter as the stern custodian of a certain 
straight gate at the end of a narrow way has lent itself to 
so many good stories and conceits that some future day 
some literary collector may wish to gather them all into 
a volume. And there are enough of them for the literary 
analysts who love to classify all varieties of wit and hu- 
mor under scientific names — like burlesque troupe, heter- 
ography, perverted logic, etc. — to give them a whole 
genus all to themselves, with as dignified a name as any 
of thern. ' 
I was once present at a camp-fire seance where the con- 
versation', happening to lead, as it were, to St. Peter's 
Gate, lingered around it, and finally, as a reminiscence of 
an old army camp-fire on the plains, drew out the most 
elaborate of all the St. Peter stories which I have ever 
heard. It is worthy of preservation, and I will give the 
conversation from the beginning. 
Some one remarked that our cook had made a good 
job of his coffee that night. Our old Colonel had lit a 
reminiscent pipe. He had campaigned in Utah under Al- 
bert Sidney Johnston in the 50s, and in Virginia iinder 
Lee in the 60s. "Yes," said he, "that was good coffee, 
and, as good coffee always does, it reminded me of the 
best cup of coffee I ever tasted in my hfe. It was in the 
w.oods in front of Chancellorsville, on the night of May 
I, 1863— the night before Stonewall Jackson was killed. 
"There was a little incident connected with the matter, 
and I will tell you of it. Gen. Jackson was the sternest 
disciplinarian I ever saw, both toward his officers and 
men. His best major generals were no more exempt 
from a sudden arrest than the humblest private. L.ate that 
afternoon I passed him with a gun I had had out on the 
skirmish line. The sergeant had a new rubber overcoat 
tied on his pommel. The General called me and asked; 
'Where did that man get that coat?' 'Picked it up out on 
skirmish line.' 'Arrest him and prefer charges for plun- 
dering on the battlefield.' Of course, I arrested him, but 
I felt worried about it, for he was one of my best men 
and a fine gunner, and I had seen him pick up the coat 
without objection, for very few of our men had any rub- 
bers. 
'"Well, after night had stopped the fighting, I got all my 
batteries together in bivouac, in the woods, and we got a 
chance to eat a little supper, having been on the go since 
daybreak. At that time the whole Confederacy had been 
out of coffee for so long that we had forgotten how it 
tasted. All sorts of substitutes were in use, but principally 
parched corn. At least that was what we used in the artil- 
lery, because we could generally get corn — the consent of 
our battery horses being expressed or implied. Just 
as I at last sat down on the root of a tree and opened 
a little package of cold bacon and corn bread, one of my 
battery commanders, Capt. Parker, came up, bringing jne 
a big tin cup brim full of scalding hot coffee — real coffee, 
and ready sweetened with nice white sugar. He had al- 
ready had some, and he sat down by me waiting for the 
cup, while I cooled and drank it, and the taste and flavor 
permeated my very bones.^ They have reacted to good 
coffee ever since. Of course, I asked Capt. Parker where 
he got it. He showed me a buckskin bag, holding about 
a quart, still half-full of coffee, parched, ground and mixed 
with Avhite sugar. He had gotten the bag, and the big tin 
cup, too, from the dead body of a Federal soldier. I said 
nothing, and I i not enjoy the coffee one whit the less; 
butj I did ^ wilder what Gen. Jackson would do if he 
should -r- ^n us. 
"Anr' the next afternoon, as we were going into action, 
and tf . captain of the sergeant's battery came and begged 
me tv. 'let him go back to duty with his gun, I remem- 
bered my participation in the coffee, and I released the 
sergeant from arrest, feeling that he had done nothing 
worse than I had. But I realized that I would have a 
difficult explanation with Gen. Jackson when the fight was 
over. I determined to risk it, however, along with all the 
Other chances of the big battle before us; and as fate 
would have it, that night the General fell with his mor- 
tal wound. 
"I have often thought over the matter since, and the 
more I think of it, the more disagreeable seems to me the 
position in which I might have found myself had Gen. 
Jackson lived. And that is the one possibly unpleasant 
interview I look forward to in the next world when I get 
there. I will perhaps have to hear what the General 
would have done about it. 
, "But I will be glad to explain the whole business to him, 
and perhaps get him to modify some of his former views, 
if he has not already done so. As Capt. Parker was in it, 
he will just have to, for a better man than Capt. Parker 
never walked this green earth. Courage, truth and un- 
selfishness might have learned their trades from him, and 
his whole hfe (he is a doctor and is still living) has been 
given to works of charity — even Stonewall Jackson won't 
outrank him up there. Indeed, whenever my time comes to 
•interview St. Peter and get through that gate of his, if 
^ he starts out to cross-question me too closely about old 
bygones, I'm going to use Capt. Parker's name as my 
first, last and only reference. Peter can't refuse a man 
who was as intimate with Capt. Parker as I can prove my- 
self to have been. I have got the record on him upon 
■that." . . J r 
• Our party included a j^oung man, an extensive reader oi 
fephemeral humorous literature. He said: "That's i 
pretty good scheme. I'd like to have a little pull with 
Peter myself. I've heard of a plan once tried by a Brook- 
lyn man which is said to have worked. This man died 
about the time when some great scandal was being venti- 
lated in Brooklyn, and the name of the city became ri 
bywora m the papers for immorality. When this man 
presented himself at the gate, Peter asked: 'Where aro 
you from?' 'Brooklyn,' said the man. 'Well,' said Peter, 
'you'll have to wait a few days. There/ has got to be a 
special investigation in every individual case before we 
■ can take any more Brooklyn people in here. You wait a 
few days, and then you can come again, and perhaps your 
case will have been reached.' , , • 
"The Brooklvn man looked very disconsolate, but he loi- 
tered off a littfe ways and stood there, watching. After 
an interval there came a quiet moment, when there was a 
pause in the arrivals, and Peter looked out of his window 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
with no one to occupy him. At that moment tlie Brook- 
lyn man gave three beautiful imitations of the crowing of 
a rooster. Peter's face flushed red. He beckoned to the 
Brooklyn man to draw near, and as he approached Peter 
opened the door. 'You can go in, he said, 'but don't you 
ever crow again Avhere I am.' " 
"Well," said the Colonel, "while that story may not be 
strictly straight at all points, it certainly corroborates, as 
far as it goes, other stories I have heard in representing 
Peter as still retaining a good share of his old human 
nature. Where there is so much smoke there must be 
some fire, and I like to think that it won't be all music up 
there, but that there will be some survival, of individual 
sentiments and characteristics. 
"It reminds me of an old army story I heard told on the 
plains in 1858. during what we called the Mormon War, 
which was no war, but only marching and camping. It 
was of a strange dream, narrated to the officersl mess one 
morning at Newport Barracks, Ky., by a Lieut/Brown, of 
tlie Sixth infantry. Brown dreamed that he had died, and 
he found himself ascending a long and narrow road, amid 
awful cliffs and crags, and almost borne along by a furious 
wind, which swept up the road and permitted no return. 
■'At last, numlD and chilled, he came out upon a more 
open place, where, on opposite sides, stood two large of- 
fice buildings, while the road beyond seemed to lose itself 
over a tremendous precipice into a boundless and bottom- 
less gulf. ' Each building had a grated window, like a rail- 
road ticket oflice, a single outside door, but without any 
outside knob or keyhole. Some dormant memory awoke 
in Brown's soul and turned his steps to the window on his 
right. A tall, stern and venerable, but well preserved 
man, with an indelible pencil in his hand, was seated at 
the window and looked out at him. Brown had never 
heard of X rays, but he described vividly how he felt the 
Venerable look through and through him. 
" 'Who are you?' asked tlie Venerable. 
" 'Lieut. B. B. Brown, Sixth infantry, from Newport 
Barracks.' 
" 'What! Sixth infantry, United States Army?' .said 
Venerable. 
" 'Yes, sir,' said Brown, feeling a sort of misgiving. 
"'You impudent scoundrel!' said Venerable, laying 
down his indelible pencil and taking up a heavy round 
ruler, and growing red in the face. 'What do you mean 
by trespassing on this side of that road? Clear out where 
you belong! And if ever you cross that road again I'll 
have you made stoker over there for a thousand years.' 
"Brown felt himself caught by the wind and fairly 
whirled out into the road, where it took him some time 
to recover his breath. He could not return down the 
path against the wind. He could hardly hold still against 
it, even though he laid down and clawed into the gravel. 
The precipice yawned in front of him, with the bottomless 
gulf beyond. He Avas chilled to the bone. He was lone- 
some. Gradually he became weary and desperate, and 
said to himself that he would rather be in Halifax. He 
crawled toward the window of the big building on the 
left. The wind whirled in that direction and helped him 
along. 
"A little, smoke-colored gentleman smiled pleasantly 
at him through the grating. 'Good morning, sir. May I 
ask whom I have the pleasure of meeting?" 
" 'Lieut. B. B. Brown, Sixth infantry, from Newport 
Barracks.' 
■■ 'United States Army?' 
"'Yes.' 
" 'Delighted to see you, sir,' said Smoke-Golor. 'Ceme 
right in, sir, and sit down, while I make out your papers. 
We are permitted to show that courtesy to the United 
States Army officers, while other people must wait their 
turns outside.' 
"At that the door swung open and_ the draft seetoed to 
suck Brown in. 
" 'Take a chair, sir, by the fire,' said Smoke-GolOr. 'Not 
too close, sir, just now, if you don't like. I will make out 
your papers for you, sir, immediately. So far as we are 
allowed we make special favorites of all United States 
Army officers.' 
"He was awfully polite, and having seated Brown, he 
at once got down a big book, with Bro. on the back, and 
began to turn over the leaves. He did not seem to find 
what he wanted, and he asked Brown if he spelt his name 
with an 'e,' and then if he spelt it with a 'u.' And then he 
got down some more books and seemed to get very much 
bothered. At last, after looking back and forth for nearly 
a half hour he gave it up and said: 'Well, sir, I am very 
sorry, but there seems to have been some gross mistake 
somewhere! All the United States Army officers are con- 
ceded to us, and yet your name is not upon our books at 
all! I have looked them over exhaustively, and we have 
not got it. We v/ould be delighted to take you in, aiid 
you would be warmly welcomed by every one of your 
preceding comrades; but there is a lot of red tape about 
this business, and we are held to a strict compliance with 
all formalities.' 
"'Well,' said Brown, 'what am I to do? I. can't get 
back, 1 can't hold on long outside, and the gentleman on 
the other side said he would give me a thousand years 
extra as stoker if 1 came on that side of the road again.' 
" 'Bless my soul,' said Smoke-Color. Then he reflected 
for a moment and said. 'There is but one thing I can 
suggest. That is Peter on duty over there now, and it 
is just like Peter to go off half-cocked like that. But it 
will be his lunch time soon, and while he goes to luncii 
Paul will be at the gate, and he is always civil and rea- 
sonable. We can always transact business with Paul. 
Meanwhile the old gentleman will be in very soon and he 
will take you over himself.' , . . . 
"So Brown sat and waited, and polite Httle Smoke- 
Color sat down to talk with him, and there ensued quite 
a conversation, of which I have forgotten the detail, but 
to Brown's messmates, when he told them of the dream at 
breakfast, it was the most interesting part of the whole. 
For it was exceedingly personal, the polite little fellow 
displaying intimate knowledge of the pet moral frailties of 
each memher of Brown's mess, and the most friendly 
solicitude that each was enjoying a good time and an easy 
conscience. Did Tom drink, and did Dick swear, and 
Plarry gamble as much as ever? Brown had not been 
able to report any reformations, which was all very satis- 
factory to Smoke-Color, and he had said: 'That's all 
right ! We need not send for them for a long time. Let 
t JaN, 28, 1899, 
them enjoy themselves! Each one's example is worth 
something, and time is no object here.' All of which 
Brown set forth fully to his comrades. 
"But in his dream, after awhile, the regular old gentle- 
man himself came in. He was of somewhat lighter com- 
plexion—more of a toast color. He had extreme self- 
possession, ' and the most beautiful manners, combined 
with the air of a close student and a minute observer. 
But Brown could see that he meant business all the time. 
Smoke-Color introduced Brown, and explained the situa- 
tion. Then he got down a book of regulations and 
showed the O. G. how every one concerned would lose 
his official position and be made stoker for eternity it 
they dared to take anybody in without authority from 
Peter or some other Apostle. So the O. G. agreed that 
the only thing to do was that he should take Brown over 
to Paul, for neither could Paul take Brown in without 
giving the O. G. a full hearing as to any claim he might 
be able to advance. 
"At last Smoke-Color, after careful reconnoissance, re- 
ported that Peter had gone, and that Paul was at the gate. 
So the O. G. took Brown and went out. He left Brown 
holding on to the doorsteps, while he went across to 
Paul's window. After a few minutes' talk with Paul he 
beckoned to Brown to come over, and Paul opened the 
door and let them both in. Paul was taller than Peter, 
and his hair and beard were whiter. Peter's had seemed 
to retain a trace of having been auburn in his youth. 
They gave Brown a seat at one side, and then stood, 
with a table between them, facing each other. Paul spoke 
first and told the O. G. to state his claim against Brown, 
if he had any, or forever afterward to hold his peace. 
"The O. G, answered that by some unfortunate chance 
Brown's name had been entirel}^ left off the patent self- 
recording books. No direct evidence, therefore, existed 
against him. But it was admitted that he died in the 
United States Army. Although this was only circum- 
stantial, yet it was the best evidence now obtainable, and 
was conclusive to any impartial mind. Under these cir- 
cumstances his right to Brown was incontestible. To 
this Paul feplied that Brown's case, being the first of its 
kind, would necessarily become a precedent, and would 
practically decide all future cases for untold ages. It con- 
cerned, therefore, more than Brown alone, and he was 
unwilling to bar out mercy for all eternity. Mercy must 
not be absolutely wanting even from the decrees of jus- 
tice. The O. G. answered: 
" 'I have acquired certain rights over all army officers 
by judicious expenditure of much time and trouble. You 
are bound to accord them some recognition. What do you 
propose to do about it?* 
"Paul reflected a moment and said : 
" 'Under such circumstances as these, the Patriarchs 
were accustomed to cast lots. I propose that we deter- 
mine who shall take Brown by that'device.' 
" 'Agreed,' said the O. G. 'That is fair. Get a dice- 
box and three dice. One throw each, and the highest 
takes him.' 
"Paul went to a bookcase and produced a dice-dox from 
a small drawer. As his back was turned |he O. G. 
winked at Brown. The bookcase had a mirror in the 
door. Paul handed the box and dice to the O. G. He 
examined them for a moment, then put the dice in the 
box, rattled them and threw. 'The dice fell, three sixes! 
Paul replaced them in the box, rattled them and threw. 
.A.gain three sixes! Neither spoke. The O. G. took up 
the dice, rattled them and threw. Three sixes! Paul took 
them, rattled and threw. Three sixes ! Again neither 
spoke. The O. G. took them, rattled and threw. Three 
sixes! Paul took them, rattled and threw. Three sevens!! 
The O. G. gazed at them blankly, and his toast-colgr 
gradually deepened to a thunder-cloud black. . 'Paul,' said 
he, 'I would not have believed it of you. Here you have 
gone and performed a miracle, and for what? To get an 
army officer into heaven, where he will be the worst lost 
sotil in the whole universe! Paul, I'll never throw dice 
with you again. I thought this was to be a gentleman's 
game!' . . ' 
"With that he snatched up his hat — it was a high hea- 
ver — clapped it on his head, stalked to the door without 
a word of good-bye to any one, and went out. slamming 
the door after him with a most tremendous bang ! ! 
"It woke Brown up. It was the bang of the morning 
gun for reveille." Jack Hildigo. 
Snakes Swallow their Young. 
Pasaden.\, Cal., Dec. ^y.— Editor Forest and Stream : I 
have noticed lately several elaborate articles on snakes 
going the rounds of the press, written, I think, by a 
Mr. O'Reilly, though I -may have forgotten the name. 
In any event, he is preaching the doctrine to the public 
that snakes do not swallow their young. I ha\e al- 
ways believed they do, not because 1 have seen it myseit 
(though I have witnessed the act among fishes), b.it 
because I have known several persons of veracity who 
have. In this connection I inclose a letttr, written ire 
several years ago by the late Col. >Jicolas Pike, of 
Brooklyn. I believe Col. Pike to have been a man of 
truth, and a trained and careful observer. He makes 
some very direct .statements, and I should be glad 
to know how the opponents cf the theory will endeavor 
to prove that he was mistaken. 
S.ENOR X. 
Brooklyn, N. Y. — Dear Sir: There has been a con- 
troversy for years among naturalists relative to the ques- 
tidn.: JDo snakes swallow their young? and there are 
many professors of herpetology at the present day who 
ridicule the idea. I have been cognizant of the fact for 
over fifty years. When a boy 1 began my studies in 
herpetology, and was not satisfied with knowing the 
names cf our reptiles, but sought them in the fields' 
and swamps and forests. I learned much of their habits, 
and from time to time kept them in confinement, and 
have reared many. Prof. G. Brown Goode, 01 the 
Smithsonian Institution, read a very interesting paper on 
the subjecjt before the American Association for the 
