"It reminds me of what happened t' me at White Plains a couple of years ago. I was in trainin' that fall at Mulligan's. You've heard of Mulligan; greatest man on th' mat in his time. Well, I bucked up against French spinach. Says he: 'Eat it.' Says I, 'I don't like it.' Says he, 'I don't care whether you like it or not. I don't like your mug, but I have t' put up with it. Eat that spinach.' Says I, 'I don't see how I can eat it if I don't like it.' An' an hour after he gives me th' bill, an' I'd have had on'y thirty minutes t' get out but for th' housekeeper, who patched it up. Those were great times. Sure. Well, no spinach or caviar in mine. Now say, what's th' game? Do you want my history, or jus' a scrap or two?"
"Describe how you won the championship from McGonegal," said Cathewe eagerly, nodding to the butler to serve the oysters.
Mr. Sullivan toyed with the filigree butter-knife, mentally deciding that its use was for cutting pie. He cast an oblique glance at the immobile countenance of the English butler, and ahemmed.
"Well," he began, "it was like this...."
As Mr. Sullivan went on, a series of whispered questions and answers was started between Caroline and the rector.
Caroline: What does he mean by "block"?
The Rector: His head, I believe.
Caroline: Oh!
Mr. Sullivan: There wasn't much doin' in th' third round. We fiddled a while. On'y once did either of us get t' th' ropes ... an' th' bell rang. Th' fourth was a hot one; hammer an' tongs from th' start off. He hooked me twice on th' wind, and I handed him out a jolt on th' jaw that put him t' th' mat.... I had th' best of th' round.
Caroline: In mercy's sake, what does he mean by "slats"?