第62部分(第2/8 頁)

　had　taken　the　spool　out　of　the　bag；　he'd　had　eyes　for　nothing　else。　I　rolled　it　across　the　shed's　uneven；　splintery　floor；　and　he　was　after　it　at　once。　He　didn't　run　with　his　old　speed；　and　his　limp　was　painful　to　watch；　but　why　should　he　have　been　either　fast　or　surefooted？　As　I've　said；　he　was　old；　a　Methuselah　of　a　mouse。　Sixty…four；　at　least。

He　reached　the　spool；　which　struck　the　far　wall　and　bounced　back。　He　went　around　it；　then　lay　down　on　his　side。　Elaine　started　forward　and　I　held　her　back。　After　a　moment；　Mr。　Jingles　found　his　feet　again。　Slowly；　so　slowly；　he　nosed　the　spool　back　to　me。　When　he'd　first　e　…　I'd　found　him　lying　on　the　steps　leading　to　the　kitchen　in　just　that　same　way；　as　if　he'd　travelled　a　long　distance　and　was　exhausted　…　he　had　still　been　able　to　guide　the　spool　with　his　paws；　as　he　had　done　all　those　years　ago　on　the　Green　Mile。　That　was　beyond　him；　now；　his　hindquarters　would　no　longer　support　him。　Yet　his　nose　was　as　educated　as　ever。　He　just　had　to　go　from　one　end　of　the　spool　to　the　other　to　keep　it　on　course。　When　he　reached　me；　I　picked　him　up　in　one　hand　…　no　more　than　a　feather；　he　weighed　…　and　the　spool　in　the　other。　His　bright　dark　eyes　never　left　it。

〃Don't　do　it　again；　Paul；〃　Elaine　said　in　a　broken　voice。　〃I　can't　bear　to　watch　him。〃

I　understood　how　she　felt；　but　thought　she　was　wrong　to　ask　it。　He　loved　chasing　and　fetching　the　spool；　after　all　the　years；　he　still　loved　it　just　as　much。　We　should　all　be　so　f