was　sorrow　for　the　whole　world　he　felt；　something　too　big　ever　to　be　pletely　eased。　Sometimes　I　sat　and　talked　to　him；　as　I　did　with　all　of　them　…　talking　was　our　biggest；　most　important　job；　as　I　believe　I　have　said　…　and　I　tried　to　fort　him。　I　don't　feel　that　I　ever　did；　and　part　of　my　heart　was　glad　he　was　suffering；　you　know。　Felt　he　deserved　to　suffer。　I　even　thought　sometimes　of　calling　the　governor　（or　getting　Percy　to　do　it　…　hell；　he　was　Percy's　damn　uncle；　not　mine）　and　asking　for　a　stay　of　execution。　We　shouldn't　burn　him　yet；　I'd　say　It's　still　hurting　him　too　much；　biting　into　him　too　much；　twisting　in　his　guts　like　a　nice　sharp　stick。　Give　him　another　niy　days；　your　honor；　sir。　Let　him　go　on　doing　to　himself　what　we　can't　do　to　him。

It's　that　John　Coffey　I'd　have　you　keep　to　one　side　of　your　mind　while　I　finish　catching　up　to　where　I　started　…　that　John　Coffey　lying　on　his　bunk；　that　John　Coffey　who　was　afraid　of　the　dark　perhaps　with　good　reason；　for　in　the　dark　might　not　two　shapes　with　blonde　curls　…　no　longer　little　girls　but　avenging　harpies　…　be　waiting　for　him？　That　John　Coffey　whose　eyes　were　always　streaming　tears；　like　blood　from　a　wound　that　can　never　heal。

7。

So　The　Chief　burned　and　The　President　walked　…　as　far　as　C　Block；　anyway；　which　was　home　to　most　of　Cold　Mountain's　hundred　and　fifty　lifers。　Life　for　The　Pres　turned　out　to　be　twelve　years。　He　was　drowned　in　the　prison　laundry　in　1944。　Not　the　Cold　Mountain　prison　laundry；　Cold　Mountain　closed　in　1933。　I　don't　suppose　it　mattered　much　to　the　inmates　…　wars　is　walls；　as　the　cons　say；　and　Old　Sparky　was　every　bit　as　lethal　in　his　own　little　stone　death　chamber；　I　reckon；　as　he'd　ever　been　in　the　storage　room　at　Cold　Mountain。

As　for　The　Pres；　someone　shoved　him　f