“You have got one, then—want to match him?”
“We have a dog at home,” said I, “in the country; but I can’t say I should like to match him. Indeed, I do not like dog-fighting.”
“Not like dog-fighting!” said the man, staring.
“The truth is, Joe, that he is just come to town.”
“So I should think; he looks rather green—not like dog-fighting!”
“Nothing like it, is there, Joey?”
“I should think not; what is like it? A time will come, and that speedily, when folks will give up everything else, and follow dog-fighting.”
“Do you think so?” said I.
“Think so? Let me ask what there is that a man wouldn’t give up for it?”
“Why,” said I, modestly, “there’s religion.”