le　was　firehouse　red。　We　got　used　to　hearing　Delacroix　trumpet；　〃Maintenant；　m'sieurs　et　mesdames！　Le　cirque　presentement　le　mous'　amusant　et　amazeant！〃　That　wasn't　exactly　it；　but　it　gives　you　an　idea　of　that　stewpot　French　of　his。　Then　he'd　make　this　sound　way　down　in　his　throat　…　I　think　it　was　supposed　to　represent　a　drumroll　…　and　fling　the　spool。　Mr。　Jingles　would　be　after　it　in　a　flash；　either　nosing　it　back　or　rolling　it　with　his　paws。　That　second　way　really　was　something　you　would　have　paid　to　see　in　a　circus；　I　think。　Delacroix　and　his　mouse　and　his　mouse's　brightly　colored　spool　were　our　chief　amusements　at　the　time　that　John　Coffey　came　into　our　care　and　custody；　and　that　was　the　way　things　remained　for　awhile。　Then　my　urinary　infection；　which　had　lain　still　for　awhile；　came　back；　and　William　Wharton　arrived；　and　all　hell　broke　loose。

10。

The　dates　have　mostly　slipped　out　of　my　head。　I　suppose　I　could　have　my　granddaughter；　Danielle；　look　some　of　them　out　of　the　old　newspaper　files；　but　what　would　be　the　point？　The　most　important　of　them；　like　the　day　we　came　down　to　Delacroix's　cell　and　found　the　mouse　sitting　on　his　shoulder；　or　the　day　William　Wharton　came　on　the　block　and　almost　killed　Dean　Stanton；　would　not　be　in　the　papers；　anyway。　Maybe　it's　better　to　go　on　just　as　I　have　been；　in　the　end；　I　guess　the　dates　don't　matter　much；　if　you　can　remember　the　things　you　saw　and　keep　them　in　the　right　order。

I　know　that　things　got　squeezed　together　a　little。　When　Delacroix's　DOE　papers　finally　came　to　me　from　Curtis　Anderson's　office；　I　was　amazed　to　see　that　our　Cajun　pal's　date　with　Old　Sparky　had　been　advanced　from　when　we　had　expected；　a　thing　that　was　almost　unheard　of；　even　in　those　days　when　you　didn't　have　to　move　half　of　heaven　and