ter with Mr. Bowles?"

The doctor shook his head. "I can't say yet. He has had a very ugly blow
somewhere."

"It was just under the left ear. I did not aim at that exact spot:
but Bowles unluckily swerved a little aside at the moment, perhaps in
surprise at a tap between his eyes immediately preceding it: and so, as
you say, it was an ugly blow that he received. But if it cures him of
the habit of giving ugly blows to other people who can bear them less
safely, perhaps it may be all for his good, as, no doubt, sir, your
schoolmaster said when he flogged you."

"Bless my soul! are you the man who fought with him,--you? I can't
believe it."

"Why not?"

"Why not! So far as I can judge by this light, though you are a tall
fellow, Tom Bowles must be a much heavier weight than you are."

"Tom Spring was the champion of England; and according to the records of
his weight, which history has preserved in her archives, Tom Spring was
a lighter weight than I am."

"But are you a prize-fighter?"

"I am as much that as I am anything else. But to return to Mr. Bowles,
was it necessary to bleed him?"

"Yes; he was unconscious, or nearly so, when I came. I took away a few
ounces; and I am happy to say he is now sensible, but must be kept very
quiet."

"No doubt; but I hope he will be well enough to see me to-morrow."

"I hope so too; but I can't say yet. Quarrel about a girl,--eh?"

"It was not about money. And I suppose if there were no money and no
women in the world, there would be no quarrels and very few doctors.
Good-night, Sir."

"It is a strange thing to me," said Kenelm, as he now opened the
garden-gate of Mr. Saunderson's homestead, "that though I've had nothing
to eat all day, except a few pitiful sandwiches, I don't feel the least
hungry. Such arrest of the lawful duties of the digestive organs never
happened to me before. There must be something weird and ominous in it."

On entering the parlour, the family party, though they had long since
finished supper, were still seated round the table. They all rose at
the sight of Kenelm. The fame of his achievements had preceded him. He
checked the congratulations, the compliments, and the questions
which the hearty farmer rapidly heaped upon him, with a melancholic
exclamation, "But I have lost my appetite! No honours can compensate for
that. Let me go to bed peaceably, and perhaps in the magic land of sleep
Nature may restore me by a dream of supper."

CH