Punch, or the London Charivari, page 9 by Various Authors
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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_