5.—Oliver got away from a hit. A pause. “Go to work,” said Paddington Jones: “What are ye both about?” Abbot planted a bodier, and not a light one. Oliver gave a facer, and followed his opponent to the ropes, where they endeavoured to hold each other’s hands to prevent fibbing, when Abbot got down. Oliver seemed to smile with contempt on his adversary, as much as to say, “There was a time that such an opponent could not have stood before me for five minutes.”
6.—A scuffle, and both down. While Oliver was sitting on the knee of his second, the Gas, with a grin upon his mug, sarcastically observed, “Why this is a lark, ain’t it, Tom? Surely you don’t call this fighting.”
7.—Oliver got away, when Abbot, in following him, hit short and napt a facer in return. They followed each other to the ropes, when the wretched condition of Oliver was evident to all the ring, for instead of fibbing Abbot, he literally pushed him away, gasping for wind; but Tom was so much the favourite of the amateurs, that they were completely blind to his defects. Abbot went down, and the shouting was loud in Oliver’s behalf.
8.—Some little milling took place. Abbot was sent out of the ring, and Oliver fell from weakness. “The Sprig of Myrtle” stepped up to Abbot and told him it was all right. “We are sure to win it,” answered Scroggins.
9.—Oliver appeared to view Abbot in the light of a plaything; still his blows did not do any mischief. Abbot threw Oliver and fell heavily on him.
10.—Oliver threw his opponent right away from him. (Thunders of applause.) In fact, at every movement that Oliver made, either good or bad, he was cheered by the surrounding spectators.
11.—This round was decidedly in favour of Oliver. Abbot turned completely round from a hit, when Oliver took advantage of this circumstance, planted a nobber, and sent Abbot down. (The costermongers were now cheering to the echo, and Ned Turner offered £10 to £1, but no person would have it.)
12.—This was also a tidy round; Oliver best, but both down.
13.—If Oliver had gone up to the nob of Abbot he might have spoiled his “mitre;” but he was more intent on getting away from the blows of his opponent than punishing him. Abbot went down from a hit. (Loud shouting.) The time-keeper stated twenty-two minutes had elapsed, which floored the bets on time, that Oliver won it in twenty minutes.
14.—Abbot went sharply to work, and made a severe body hit. A pause. Oliver planted a header, smiling, but put down his hands as if tired. The right hand of Abbot, which went home on Oliver’s mouth, sent him staggering, and the claret flowed profusely. At the ropes a sharp struggle took place, when Oliver threw his opponent. (“Well done, Tom; go to work and finish it.” Oliver for any odds.)