_The Spectators are waiting patiently around the ropes; the
Professor is still on the platform, expatiating on the coming
contest. JOE has found a friend whom he has entrusted with
his hat and coat._
_Joe_ (_to the Friend_). Jest kip a heye on these 'ere, will ye!
[_He hands him a huge pair of highlows._
_Prof._ (_calling in_). Fur the larst time, come outside and show
yerselves, all on yer!
_The Friend._ You got to go out agin, JOE, better putt on yer coat an'
'at, not to ketch cold!
_Joe._ Ah, and I'll 'ave to 'ave they bo-oots on agen, too. (_He gets
into his things in a great flurry, and hastens outside._) 'Tis enough
to take th' 'art out of a man, thet 'tis!
[_More exhortations from Proprietor, until the last Spectator
has been induced to enter the Saloon, whereupon the Champions
return, and the hangings at the entrance are finally drawn._
_Prof._ (_acting as Timekeeper_). Now then, all ready? (_To JOE._)
In you go--What are yer waitin' for? Never mind about takin' orf
yer boots! Gentlemen, BATTERS o' Bermondsey is agoin' to fight three
rounds with a volunteer, one o' your own men. Whatever you see between
'em (_solemnly_), pass no remarks! Time!
[_JOE and "BATTERS o' Bermondsey" walk round each other
and make a fumbling attempt to shake hands, after which JOE,
while preparing to deliver a blow with extreme caution and
deliberation, is surprised by a smart smack on his cheek,
which makes him stagger; he recovers himself and prances down
on BATTERS with a windmill action._
_Batters_ (_limping into his corner_). 'Ere, I say, ole man--moind my
tows--foight at yer right _end_!
_Joe_ (_apologetically_). I didn't mean nothing unfair-like--I
_warnted_ fur to take off them 'ere boots--but I warn't let!
_Batters._ I'll _let_ ye--fur 'taint no corpet slippers as you've got
on, ole feller, I tell yer strite!
[_JOE removes the offending boots._
_Spectators_ (_during the second round, which is fought with more
spirit than science on JOE'S part_). Ah, JOE ain't no match for
'un--he let un _'ave_ it then, didn't he? My word! but it's "Go 'ome
an' tell yer Mother, an' ax yer Uncle 'ow ye be" with 'un, pretty near
every time!
_Prof._ (_with affected rapture_). Oh dear! Oh lor! _What_ doins!
Time! you two, afore ye _kill_ one another! Now, Gentlemen, a good
clap, to encourage 'em. I think you'll agree as the Volunteer is
showin' you good sport; and, if you think him deservin' of a drink,
p'raps one o' you will oblige with the loan of a 'at, which he'll now
take round. (_The hat is procured, and offered to_ JOE, _who, however,
prefers that the collection should be made by deputy._) Don't _forgit_
'im, Gentlemen! (_Coppers pour into the hat, and the last round is
fought;_ B. of B. _ducking_ JOE'S _blows with great agility, and
planting his own freely in various parts of_ JOE'S _anatomy._)
_Spectators._ 'E'll be knocked out in a minnit, 'e will! Don't sim to
git near 'un no 'ow. Look a' _that_--and _thar_ agin! Ah, JOE got
one in that time--but the tother's the better man--'e don't touch 'un
without _'ittin'_ of 'un--d'ye see? Time! Ah, and time it _was_ time,
too--fur _'im_!
_Prof._ (_to JOE, as he sits blinking, and blowing his nose with
vigour_). That was a jolly good fight--tho' rough. You've some notion
o' sparrin'--we'd soon make a boxer o' _you_. 'Ere's _your_ share of
the collection--sevenpence ap'ny. We give _you_ the extry ap'ny, bein'
a stranger. Would you feel inclined to fight six rounds, later on
like, with another of our lads, fur ten bob, now?
_Joe_ (_making a futile attempt to untie his glove with his teeth_).
Much obliged, Master, but I've 'ad about enough spree a'ready to do me
fur a bit.
_Prof._ Are there any two friends in 'ere as 'ud like to fight a round
or two?
[_Two Rustics step forward valiantly--a tall dark man and a
little red-haired one--and, after the usual preliminaries,
square up at a safe distance._
_Spectators_ (_to the tall man_). Why don't ye step _up_ to 'un, JIM?
Use yer right 'and a bit! (_To the short one._) Let out on 'un, TOM!
[_TOM, thus exhorted, lands an unexpected blow on JIM'S eye._
_Jim_ (_suddenly ducking under the rope in great dudgeon_). 'Twas a
cowardly blow! I didn' stan' up to be 'it in th' fa-ace i' that way;
I've 'ad enoof of it!
_Tom._ Come back and fight it out! (_Soothingly._) Why, ye come at me
like a thunderin' great _lion_, ye did!
_Jim_ (_putting on his hat and coat, sulkily_). Loi-on or noan,
I ain't gawin' to hev naw moor on it, I tell 'ee. [_Groans from_
Spectators.
_Prof._ Don't be 'ard on 'im, Gents; it ain't 'is fault if he's on'y
bin used to box with bolsters, and as he ain't goin' to finish 'is
rounds, it's all over for this time, and I 'ope you're all satisfied
with what you've seen.
_A Malcontent._ _I_ ain't. I carl it a bloomin' swindle. I come 'ere
to see some _sparrin'_, _I_ did!
_Prof._ Step inside the ropes then, and _I'll_ soon show yer some!
(_This invitation is hastily declined._) Well, then, go outside quiet,
d'jear me? or else you'll do it upside down, like ole JOHN BROWN, in
'arf a sec., I can tell yer!
[_The Malcontent departs meekly, and reserves any further
observations until he is out of hearing._
_Melia_ (_to JOE_). Lor, I wish now I'd been there to see ye; I do
'ope ye weren't too _rough_ with 'un, though, JOE. What shall we do
next?--'ave a turn on the swings, or the swishback circus, or the
giddy-go-round--or what? (JOE _shakes his head._) _Why_ won't ye, JOE?
_Joe_ (_driven to candour_). Why?--'cause it 'ud be throwin' away
money, seein' I've got 'em all goin' on inside o' me at once as 'tis,
if ye _want_ to know! I feel a deal more like settin' down quiet a
bit, I do, if I cud find a place.
_Melia_ (_with an inspiration_). Then let's go and 'ave our likenesses
took!
[_She cannot understand why JOE should be so needlessly
incensed at so innocent and opportune a suggestion._
* * * * *