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!