His neck was in pain and lifting his hand to it he found it horribly swollen. He knew that it had a circle of black where the rope had bruised it. His eyes felt congested; he could no longer close them. His tongue was swollen with thirst; he relieved its fever by thrusting it forward from between his teeth into the cold air. How softly the turf had carpeted the untraveled avenue-he cold no longer feel the roadway beneath his feet (par. 35). Peyton Farquhar, the victim being hanged in this story, envisions these thoughts as his life unknowingly closes out. Throughout the story he imagines himself escaping f