ut another fight is at hand, and the pugilists are clearing the
outer ring;--how their huge whips come crashing upon the heads of the
yokels; blood flows, more blood than in the fight; those blows are given
with right good-will, those are not sham blows, whether of whip or fist;
it is with fist that grim Shelton strikes down the big yokel; he is
always dangerous, grim Shelton, but now particularly so, for he has lost
ten pounds betted on the brave who sold himself to the yokels; but the
outer ring is cleared: and now the second fight commences; it is between
two champions of less renown than the others, but is perhaps not the
worse on that account. A tall thin boy is fighting in the ring with a
man somewhat under the middle size, with a frame of adamant; that's a
gallant boy! he's a yokel, but he comes from Brummagem, and he does
credit to his extraction; but his adversary has a frame of adamant: in
what a strange light they fight, but who can wonder, on looking at that
frightful cloud usurping now one-half of heaven, and at the sun
struggling with sulphurous vapour; the face of the boy, which is turned
towards me, looks horrible in that light, but he is a brave boy, he
strikes his foe on the forehead, and the report of the blow is like the
sound of a hammer against a rock; but there is a rush and a roar
overhead, a wild commotion, the tempest is beginning to break loose;
there's wind and dust, a crash, rain and hail; is it possible to fight
amidst such a commotion? yes! the fight goes on; again the boy strikes
the man full on the brow, but it is of no use striking that man, his
frame is of adamant. 'Boy, thy strength is beginning to give way, and
thou art becoming confused'; the man now goes to work, amidst rain and
hail. 'Boy, thou wilt not hold out ten minutes longer against rain,
hail, and the blows of such an antagonist.'

And now the storm was at its height; the black thunder-cloud had broken
into many, which assumed the wildest shapes and the strangest colours,
some of them unspeakably glorious; the rain poured in a deluge, and more
than one waterspout was seen at no great distance: an immense rabble is
hurrying in one direction; a multitude of men of all ranks, peers and
yokels, prize-fighters and Jews, and the last came to plunder, and are
now plundering amidst that wild confusion of hail and rain, men and
horses, carts and carriages. But all hurry in one direction, through mud
and mire; there's a town only