Click the Pic J ....in a few short weeks it will be spring. The snows of winter will flow away, the ice will vanish, the air will become soft and balmy.
The annual miracle of the years will awaken and come to pass. The rivulet will run its soaring course to the sea. The timid desert flowers will put fourth their tender shoots. The glorious valleys of this imperial domain will blossom as the rose. From every tree top, some wild songster will carol his mating song. Butterflies will sport in the sunshine.
But you will not be here to enjoy it. Because I command the sheriff of the county to lead you away to some remote spot, swing you by the neck from a bough of some sturdy oak and let you hang until you are Dead, Dead, Dead! You cold-blooded, blood-thirsty, throat-cutting, murdering son of a bitch.
.....Judge Roy Bean |