'
"I was a bit thick with the Abyssinian prince, Grover Redding, you recall.
The man spent the whole time we were with him praying at the top of his
voice and singing hymns. Not that I begrudged the fellow this privilege.
But if you've ever heard a man who's going to be hanged in a few hours try
to pass the time in continual prayers shouted at the top of his voice
you'll understand our predicament.
"Then there was Antonio Lopez. I was death watch on him and a difficult
task that was. The lad kept up his pretense that he fancied himself a
rooster to the very end. He crouched on the chair on his feet and flapped
his elbows like as they were wings and emitted rooster calls all night
long. I tried to dissuade him and offered to play him any game he wished
for any stake. But the only way he could reconcile himself to the
approaching fatal dawn was to crow like a rooster. I thought to cheer him
up toward the end by congratulating him on his excellent imitations, as I
bore him no ill will despite he gave us all a terrible headache before the
death march took him away."
* * * * *
Now the rain dropped in long, quick lines outside the window and the
pavements below glowed like dark mirrors.
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