I knew a young man, he drank largely, and swore heavily, and was a good hand at the billiard table. But one night in the thick of the game an unexpected stroke was made — not by our player, but by the ruthless hand of Death.
The loud laughter was changed for the death gasp, and his soul left the lifeless clay grasping the cue. There was a “break” in that game. He cracked his last joke at thirty.
Does my reader love the pleasures of sin? If so, remember that “the wages of sin is death,” and “after this the judgment,” when “the wicked shall he turned into hell.”