〃Oh　no；〃　he　cried　over　and　over　again；　amid　the　screams　and　the　garbled　pleas　and　prayers　in　Cajun　French。　〃Oh　no；　oh　no；　poor　Mr。　Jingles；　poor　old　Mr。　Jingles；　oh　no。〃

〃Give　im　to　me。〃

I　looked　up；　puzzled　by　that　deep　voice；　at　first　not　sure　who　it　belonged　to。　I　saw　John　Coffey。　Like　Delacroix；　he　had　put　his　arms　through　the　bars　of　his　cell　door；　but　unlike　Del；　he　wasn't　waving　them　around。　He　simply　held　them　out　as　far　as　he　could；　the　hands　at　the　ends　of　them　open。　It　was　a　purposeful　pose；　an　almost　urgent　pose。　And　his　voice；　had　the　same　quality；　which　was　why；　I　suppose；　I　didn't　recognize　it　as　belonging　to　Coffey　at　first。　He　seemed　a　different　man　from　the　lost；　weepy　soul　that　had　occupied　this　cell　for　the　last　few　weeks。

〃Give　im　to　me；　Mr。　Edgebe！　While　there's　still　time！〃

Then　I　remembered　what　he'd　done　for　me；　and　understood。　I　supposed　it　couldn't　hurt；　but　I　didn't　think　it　would　do　much　good；　either。　When　I　picked　the　mouse　up；　I　winced　at　the　feel…there　were　so　many　splintered　bones　poking　at　various　spots　on　Mr。　Jingles's　hide　that　it　was　like　picking　up　a　fur…covered　pincushion。　This　was　no　urinary　infection。　Still　…

〃What　are　you　doing？〃　Brutal　asked　as　I　put　Mr。　Jingles　in　Coffey's　huge　right　hand。　〃What　the　hell？〃

Coffey　pulled　the　mouse　back　through　the　bars。　He　lay　limp　on　Coffey's　palm；　tail　hanging　over　the　arc　between　Coffey's　thumb　and　first　finger；　the　tip　twitching　weakly　in　midair。　Then　Coffey　covered　his　right　hand　with　his　left；　creating　a　kind　of　cup　in　which　the　mouse　lay。　We　could　no　longer　see　Mr。　Jingles　himself；　only　the　tail；　hanging　down　and　twitching　at　the　tip　like　a　dying　pendulum。　Coffey　lifted　his　hands　toward　his　face；　spreading　the　fingers　of　the　right　as　he　did　so