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　face…first　into　a　vat　of　dry…cleaning　fluid　and　held　him　there。　When　the　guards　pulled　him　out　again；　his　face　was　almost　entirely　gone。　They　had　to　ID　him　by　his　fingerprints。　On　the　whole；　he　might　have　been　better　off　with　Old　Sparky　。。。　but　then　he　never　would　have　had　those　extra　twelve　years；　w