The Wayfarers. Snaith John Collis

Therefore taking off my great-coat I bade the poor frightened child wrap herself in it up to her ears and to stay where she was, that she might neither hear nor observe that which was going forward. She obeyed me in this, and lay sobbing softly to herself while I went forth to do battle with my friend the farmer.

      On stepping out of the hovel into the yard I found my antagonist was surrounded by three or four of the farm yokels, and moreover was stripped to the waist. To judge by his expression he was plainly animated by the highest intentions towards me, and was prepared to give quite as much or even more than he was likely to receive.

      "Now then, my lad," he says briskly, "I'm a-going to do as well by you as Tench did last week by the Fightin' Tinman. Now then, Joe Barker, and you, Bill Blagg, come on with them there pails and moppses."

      To my infinite delight I saw that the two children of the soil in question were bearing two buckets of water towards us with a sponge floating on the top of each.

      "We can't have this done in due and proper form according to the reggerlations," says this sportsman of a farmer in an apologetic voice, "because you see we've got no judge, and none o' these men o' mine could be trusted with the dooties. I wish Squire was here, I do so. We could have it all done proper then accordin' to the reggerlations. Squire was Tench's backer down Putney way last week, and knows all the reggerlations off by heart, does Squire. He only lives just across the road, and if you'll wait a minute I'll have him fetched."

      "No, my good man," says I hastily, "we'll have no squires if you please. We can trust one another, I suppose. Let me suggest that a knock-down ends the round, and that we set-to again when we feel able."

      "That seems fair," says the farmer. "But I should a-liked Squire to ha' been here all the same, and I'm thinking he'd a-liked to ha' been here too. He's the best sporting man in Surrey, is the Squire, and fair death on the reggerlations."

      Having fixed up all the preliminaries of an encounter in this expeditious fashion, I proceeded to prepare for the fray. I imitated the farmer's excellent example, divested myself of coat, waistcoat and shirt, and bound up my breeches with a leathern belt I was able to borrow from a flattered and delighted yokel. It was in this negligent attire that I regarded my antagonist, and devoutly hoped the while that my little Cynthia was still sobbing among the hay in the hovel.

      CHAPTER V

      I VINDICATE THE NATIONAL CHARACTER

      The farmer held out his hand with a grin, but quite in the approved manner, and I seized the occasion of shaking it briefly to run over his points. He was extremely broad: a hard-looking, powerful fellow, apparently capable of taking a deal of punishment. But his years were against him. He was considerably on the wrong side of fifty to judge by his looks, and in height I had the advantage of a full four inches. To judge by the attitude in which he set himself, I doubted whether, whatever his experience of these encounters, he had much science to recommend him. For myself I must confess I was hugely delighted with the whole thing, and entered into it with the spirit of a boy. A match or a contest or a wager of any kind has ever been peculiarly acceptable to me. Indeed was it not this fondness, amounting almost to a passion, that had so largely contributed to my present position? I had always, I think, been pretty ready with my hands; had had some little practice in night affrays with footpads and persons of that kidney; had witnessed more than one set-to in the ring; whilst as for the matter of science, I had in my younger days taken so keen an interest in this invaluable art, as to put myself under the tutelage of acknowledged masters of it. Therefore I was not without a certain confidence in myself, although there was a grim determination about the mien and air of the farmer that was not to be despised. He was unmistakably game and full of the true fighting instinct, but his years were no friends of his intrepidity.

      Disregarding all subtleties and finesse, as well became his blunt, rustical, honest character, we had no sooner greeted one another and got our hands up, than the farmer came at me both hands pell-mell, with his head down, like a bull at a gate. His onset was so fierce and sudden, that I was by no means prepared to receive it, and he had me at a decided disadvantage. He had rained in a full dozen of short-armed blows, right and left, left and right at my face, at my ribs, at my chest, ere I could even so much as find my fighting legs, or bring into action any little skill that I might possess. My long-unpractised ward could not prevail at all against such an onslaught. I received half-parried blows on the mouth, which cut my lip and broke a tooth, on the right eye which partially closed it up, and a full one in the ribs. This last was the worst of all, as for a time it deprived me somewhat of my wind and made me sob to catch my breath. And while I was meeting with these misfortunes, the bystanding yokels, whose sympathies were all on one side and that not mine, as you may suppose, were dancing with delight, and shrieking their hoarse encouragement.

      "Go it, varmer. Give un pepper, give un snuff!"

      However, by this I had pulled myself together somewhat, and had found a means of coping with this hand-over-hand style of fighting. There was plenty of room to dodge in. This I began to make use of. Indeed it was the only chance I had of protecting myself, for I was quite incapable of standing up to the farmer's terrible blows. But as soon as I could find myself sufficiently to begin dancing out of his reach, the game turned at once in my favour. There was devil a bit of guile or finesse in the heart of my honest adversary. The moment I gave ground, he pursued me, hitting the air. Happily for me he was much too slow and heavy in this kind of warfare ever to get his knuckles near the place he desired.

      In a little while his great jowl grew inflamed, the sweat poured off his forehead into his eyes, his breath came short and thick, and his hitting grew gradually weaker and less sustained. It was not yet that I went in, however. I continued to prance round and round him, there being plenty of room in which to do so; and at every futile blow he grew more unsteady. But all this while I had a keen eye for my opportunity. It was coming slowly but surely, for I was well enough versed in the matter to know better than to go so much as an inch to meet it. I waited then with a wary patience, sometimes letting him get nearer than I need have done to encourage him in his course. Not that this was necessary, for the old fellow was as game as any pet of the "fancy" that ever buffed in the ring. But not again did I allow him to get his "ten commandments" home on me; I had had enough of that. And at last having allowed him to spend himself entirely, I quickly selected the moment of my advantage, even deliberated on it to make quite sure, and then stiffened every muscle into trim. I made a pretence of closing up with him. This had the effect of luring him into another futile rush. As he came hitting blindly, I feinted, and as he went past, my right went out at the most correct fraction of an instant, and down went the gallant farmer into the muck of his own barton. The Fighting Tinker himself could not have done it more neatly, I'll vow. But the old fellow was of a rare British mettle. He was no sooner down than he was up again. Apparently he was ashamed to be seen in such a humiliating posture.

      I, for my part, had barely time to wipe away the blood that was oozing from my broken lip, ere the farmer was up and at me again. But I was not to be caught napping a second time. By this I was perfectly calm and sure of myself, for I felt that I enjoyed a command of the methods that were likely to bring me success. Instead of dodging from my opponent on this occasion I allowed him to come right up and literally hurl himself on his own undoing. For again at the exact instant I got a beautiful lead on to his point, and stunned as much by the unexpected check to his own impetus as by the blow itself, he fell flat on his back. This time he lay half stunned. He made several attempts to rise immediately, but was quite unable to do so.

      Seeing him to be somewhat the worse, his yokels ran to him, whilst I went too, and rendered him all the assistance that lay in my power. He lay puffing and panting in the mire of the yard, half-dazed by his disaster, otherwise apparently not a penny the worse. He was still full of fighting courage; but unfortunately he lay as weak as a child from the shock of the blow and the fall. Strive as he might he was quite unable to rise. His yokels of course were at a loss to know what to do in the circumstances, but I did what I could by propping his head on my knee, and dispatching one of the men to the house for some brandy. And at this moment who should arrive but little Cynthia with a very white face indeed, and in such a quiver of distress as plainly said that she had witnessed the whole affair from the seclusion of the cowhouse.

      "Oh," says she, taking charge of the farmer at once, and sponging