"He was afraid if he said six and a half she'd ask for some. And, my
friends, that was a lie. The half of a meiboss stuck in his throat and he
died and was buried. And where did the soul of that little liar go to, my
friends? It went to the lake of fire and brimstone. This brings me to the
second point of my discourse.
"What is a lake of fire and brimstone? I will tell you, my friends," said
Bonaparte condescendingly. "The imagination unaided cannot conceive it:
but by the help of the Lord I will put it before your mind's eye.
"I was travelling in Italy once on a time; I came to a city called Rome, a
vast city, and near it is a mountain which spits forth fire. Its name is
Etna. Now, there was a man in that city of Rome who had not the fear of
God before his eyes, and he loved a woman. The woman died, and he walked
up that mountain spitting fire, and when he got to the top he threw himself
in at the hole that is there. The next day I went up. I was not afraid;
the Lord preserves His servants. And in their hands shall they bear thee
up, lest at any time thou fall into a volcano. It was dark night when I
got there, but in the fear of the Lord I walked to the edge of the yawning
abyss, and looked in. That sight--that sight, my friends, is impressed
upon my most indelible memory. I looked down into the lurid depths upon an
incandescent lake, a melted fire, a seething sea; the billows rolled from
side to side, and on their fiery crests tossed the white skeleton of the
suicide.
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