NP--here comes the judge

[Steve Maas]

>From _Blood Meridian, Or the Evening Redness in the West_
By Cormac McCarthy

And they are dancing, the board floor slamming under the jackboots and the 
fiddlers grinning hideously over their canted pieces. Towering over them all 
is the judge and he is naked dancing, his small feet lively and quick and 
now in doubletime and bowing to the ladies, huge and pale and hairless, like 
an enormous infant. He never sleeps, he says. He says he'll never die. He 
bows to the fiddlers and sashays backwards and throws back his head and 
laughs deep in his throat and he is a great favorite, the judge. He wafts 
his hat and the lunar dome of his skull passes palely under the lamps and he 
swings about and takes possession of one of the fiddles and he pirouettes 
and makes a pass, two passes, dancing and fiddling at once. His feet are 
light and nimble. He never sleeps. He says that he will never die. He dances 
in light and in shadow and he is a great favorite. He never sleeps, the 
judge. He is dancing, dancing. He says that he will never die.

THE END
     --P. 335, Vintage International edition (1992)

_________________________________________________________________
Concerned that messages may bounce because your Hotmail account has exceeded 
its 2MB storage limit? Get Hotmail Extra Storage!         
http://join.msn.com/?PAGE=features/es