An' then I get took short o' breath--look at
me now, dang it!"
"Why, then, sit down, Old Un," said Ravenslee, drawing up a somewhat
worn armchair. "Joe and I are going at it hard and fast this afternoon,
and I want you to time the rounds." And he proceeded to remove his
garments.
"Oh, j'y!" cried the Old Un, hugging himself in bony arms. "Oh, j'yful
words. Ah, but you peels like a good un, sir," he croaked, viewing white
flesh and bulging muscle with knowing old eyes, "good an' long in the
arm an' wide slope o' shoulder. You might ha' done well in the ring if
you'd been blessed wi' poverty an' I'd 'ad the 'andling of ye--a world's
unbeat champion, like Joe. A good fighter were I an' a wonnerful
trainer! Ho, yus, I might ha' made a top-notcher of ye if you 'adn't
been cursed wi' money."
"I suppose," said Ravenslee thoughtfully, "I suppose Joe was one of the
best all-round fighting men that ever climbed into a ring?"
"Ah--that 'e were! Joe were better 'n the best--only don't let 'im
'ear me say so, 'e 'd be that puffed up--Lord! But nobody could beat
Joe--black, yaller or white; they all tried danged 'ard, but Joe were a
world-beater--y' see, I trained Joe! An' to-day 'e 's as good as ever 'e
was.
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