“You don’t say you will beat me?”
“Afraid was the word.”
“I’m sick and feeble.”
“Hold up your fists.”
“Won’t the horse satisfy you?”
“Horse nor bellows either.”
“No mercy, then.”
“Here’s at you.”
“Mind your eyes, Jack. There, you’ve got it. I thought so,” shouted the girl, as the fellow staggered back from a sharp blow in the eye. “I thought he was chaffing at you all along.”
“Never mind, Anselo. You know what to do—go in,” said the vulgar woman, who had hitherto not spoken a word, but who now came