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A newspaper told the story of a man in Arkansas who had a pet rattlesnake. The man found the snake as a baby. He took it, fed it, and made it a pet. The reptile would come when he whistled, it would eat from his fingers, and it would coil around his arm and let him stroke its head with the palm of his hand or with the tips of his fingers. One day he took the snake to town to show it to his friends. They marveled at its gentleness –marveled that it would eat from his hand. Satisfied that he had impressed his friends the man went back home with his pet snake. When he arrived home, suddenly, with only the slightest provocation, the reptile became angry. That “pet” rattler buried its fangs into the man’s arm. In a few hours, the man was dead. In one quick instant, through that “friendly” serpent’s poisonous fangs, that man met death! Two days after that, this man who should have been sitting with his family in their humble but happy home was sleeping in the mud of an Arkansas grave. With such dread cometh such an hour to every man and woman who makes a pet of sin! (Robert G. Lee, Whirlwinds of God).

"For the wages of sin is death."