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Page 10
So next day, when the accustomed train
Of things grew round our sense again,
we agreed together, those of us, I mean, who had suffered on the
previous night, that something must be done. What it was to be
we could not at first decide. We should have preferred "something
lingering, with boiling oil in it," but at last we decided on the
brilliant suggestion of SHABRACK, who was of the party, that we should
endeavour by some means or other to bring the two bores, as it were,
face to face in a kind of boring-competition in the smoking-room
that very night, to engage them in warfare against one another
and ourselves to sit by and watch them mutually extinguishing one
another; a result that, we were certain, could not fail to be brought
about, owing to the deadly nature of the weapons with which each was
provided. Both the bores, I may observe, shot execrably during the
day. In the evening, after a short preliminary skirmish, from which
SHABRACK the hussar extricated us with but little loss, that which we
desired came to pass. It was a terrible spectacle. In a moment both
these magnificent animals, their bristles erect, and all their tusks
flashing fiercely in the lamp-light, were locked in the death-grapple.
Every detail of the memorable struggle is indelibly burnt into my
brain. Even at this distance of time, I can remember how we all looked
on, silent, awestruck, fascinated, as the dreadful fight proceeded
to its inevitable close. For the benefit of others, let me attempt to
describe it in the appropriate language of the Ring.
GREAT FIGHT BETWEEN THE KENTISH PROSER AND THE HAMPSHIRE DULLARD.
_Round I._--Both men advanced, confident, but cautious. After sparring
for an opening, the Proser landed lightly on the jaw with,--"When
the Duke of DASHBURY did me the honour to ask me to his Grace's
noble deer-forest." He ducked to avoid the return, but the Hampshire
Champion would not be denied, and placed two heavy fish-stories fair
in the bread-basket. The Proser swung round a vicious right-hander
anecdote about a stag shot at 250 yards, but the blow fell short,
and he was fairly staggered by two in succession ("the tree-climbing
rabbit," and "the Marquis of DULLFIELD'S gaiters"), delivered straight
on the mouth. First blood for the Dullard. After some hard exchanges
they closed, and fell, the Dullard underneath.
_Round II._--Both blowing a good deal. The Proser put up his Dukes,
and let fly with both of them, one after another, at the Dullard's
conk, drawing claret profusely. Nothing daunted, the Dullard watched
his opportunity, and delivered a first-class Royal Prince on the
Proser's right eye, half closing that optic. The men now closed, but
broke away again almost directly. Some smart fibbing, in which neither
could claim an advantage, ensued. The round was brought to a close by
some rapid exchanges, after which the Proser went down. Betting 6 to 4
on the Dullard.
_Round III., and last._--Proser's right peeper badly swollen, the
Dullard gory, and a bit groggy, but still smiling. Proser opened with
a ricochet, which did great execution, but was countered heavily when
he attempted to repeat the trick, the Dullard all but knocking him
off his legs with a fifty-pound salmon. After some slight exchanges
they began a hammer-and-tongs game, in which Proser scored heavily.
Dullard, however, pulled himself together for a final rush. They met
in the middle of the ring, and both fell heavily. As neither was able
to rise, the fight was drawn. Both men were heavily damaged, and were
carried away with their jaws broken.
There you have the story. The actual result was that these two
ponderous bores all but did one another to death. So exhausted
were they by the terrible conflict, that our comfort was not again
disturbed by them during this particular visit. We were lucky, though
at first we scarcely saw it, in getting two evenly matched ironclad
bores together. If we had had only one, the matter would have been far
more difficult.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE SERPENT'S TOOTH.
"DIDN'T I SEND 'IM TO HETON AN' HOXFORD? DIDN'T I SEND 'IM INTO THE
HARMY, ALONG O' SOME O' THE BIGGEST NOBS IN ALL HENGLAND, WITH AN
ALLOWANCE FIT FOR A YOUNG HEARL? AND WHAT'S THE HUPSHOT OF IT ALL?
WHY, HE GIVES DINNERS TO DOOKS AND ROYAL 'IGHNESSES, AN' DON'T EVEN
HARSK 'IS PORE OLD FATHER TO MEET 'EM. 'IGHNESSES, INDEED! I COULD BUY
UP THE 'OLE BLESSED LOT! AND, _WHAT'S MORE, I WOULDN'T MIND TELLIN'
'EM SO TO THEIR FACES, FOR TWO PINS!--AH! JUST AS SOON AS LOOK AT
'EM--AND 'E KNOWS IT!_"]
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