or a short breathing space. "I never thought you'd
be so well up to him. Are you much damaged?"

"No," said I.

"Well, you'd best play steady this next round too," said my second. "He
can't hold out long with his elbows that height. If you like you can
have a quiet shot or two at his breastplate, just to get your hand in
for the next round."

This advice I, now quite warmed up to the emergency, adopted.

Whipcord returned to his sledge-hammer tactics, and as carelessly as
ever, too; for more than once I got in under his guard, and once, amid
terrific plaudits, got "home"--so Flanagan called it--on his chin, in a
manner which, I flattered myself, fairly astonished him.

"Now then, Whip, what are you thinking about?" cried the Field-Marshal;
"you aren't going to let the young 'un lick you, surely?"

"Time!" cried Daly, before the bruised one could reply; and so ended
round two, from which I retired covered with dust and glory.

I felt very elated, and was quite pleased with myself now that I had,
stood up to my man. It seemed perfectly plain I had the battle in my
own hands, so I inwardly resolved if possible to bring the affair to an
end in the next round, and let my man off easy.

Conceited ass that I was! To my amazement and consternation, Whipcord
came up to the scratch on time being called in an entirely new light.
Instead of being the careless slogger I had taken him for, he went to
work now in a most deliberate and scientific manner. It gradually
dawned on me that I had been played with so far, and that my man was
only now beginning to give his mind to the business. Ass that I had
been! Poor wretch that I was!

Before the round had well begun I was reeling about like a ninepin. The
little knowledge of pugilism I had, or thought I had, was like child's
play against the deliberate downright assault of this practised hand. I
did what I could, but it was very little. The laughter of my opponents
and the gibes of my backers all tended to flurry me and lose me my head.

Let me draw a veil over that scene.

My opponent was not one of the sort to give quarter. He had had a blow
of mine on his chin in the last round, and he had heard the laughter and
cheers which greeted it. It was his turn now, and he took his turn as
long as I could stand up before him. It seemed as if "time!" would
never be called. I was faint and sick, and my face--

Ah! that last was a finishing stroke. I could keep my fee