e staves, rather
than the men, that were praised; and certainly the former did their
duty. In a moment their shillelaghs were across each other once more,
and the men resumed their former attitudes; their savage determination,
their kindled eyes, the blood which disfigured the face of Grimes, and
begrimed also the countenance of his antagonist into a deeper expression
of ferocity, occasioned many a cowardly heart to shrink from the sight.
There they stood, gory and stern, ready for the next onset; it was first
made by Grimes, who tried to practise on Kelly the feint which Kelly had
before practised on him. Denis, after his usual manner, caught the blow
in his open hand, and clutched the staff, with an intention of holding
it until he might visit Grimes, now apparently unguarded, with a
levelling blow; but Grimes's effort to wrest the cudgel from his grasp,
drew all Kelly's strength to that quarter, and prevented him from
availing himself of the other's defenceless attitude. A trial of
muscular power ensued, and their enormous bodily strength was exhibited
in the stiff tug for victory. Kelly's address prevailed; for while
Grimes pulled against him with all his collected vigor, the former
suddenly let go his hold, and the latter, having lost his balance,
staggered back; lightning could not be more quick than the action of
Kelly, as, with tremendous force, his cudgel rung on the unprotected
head of Grimes, who fell, or rather was shot to the ground, as if some
superior power had clashed him against it; and there he lay for a short
time, quivering under the blow he had received.

"A peal of triumph now arose from Kelly's party; but Kelly himself,
placing his arms a-kimbo, stood calmly over his enemy, awaiting
his return to the conflict. For nearly five minutes he stood in this
attitude, during which time Grimes did not stir; at length Kelly stooped
a little, and peering closely into his face, exclaimed--

"'Why, then, is it acting you are?--any how, I wouldn't put it past you,
you cunning vagabone; 'tis lying to take breath he is--get up, man, I'd
scorn to touch you till you're on your legs; not all as one, for sure
it's yourself would show me no such forbearance. Up with you, man alive,
I've none of your thrachery in me. I'll not rise my cudgel till you're
on your guard.'

"There was an expression of disdain, mingled with a glow of honest, manly
generosity on his countenance, as he spoke, which made him at once the
favo