59.—Spring had not room to display his science, but he endeavoured to hit Langan as the latter rushed in. Spring had the worst of the throw.
60.—Cribb, at this instant, was so pressed upon by the crowd, that, in a violent rage, he declared he would give a floorer to any person who stood in his way. “Here’s a pretty go!” said Tom, “a set of fellows with books and pencils in their hands, pretending to be reporters. A parcel of impostors! I don’t care; I’ll hit anybody.” One of the umpires, a noble lord, was hit with a shillelah by a rough Patlander, who was attempting to get a little space for Langan, and when informed that he was behaving rude to a nobleman, “Devil may care,” says Pat; “all I want is fair play for Jack Langan. There’s no difference here: lords are no better than commoners. Faith! I can’t distinguish them one from another, at all, at all!” Langan ran in and gave Spring a blow on the head: but, in struggling for the throw, the Irish Champion was undermost.
61.—When time was called, “Here we are,” said Langan. Spring had only time to make a hit, when Langan bored in; but Spring again had the best of the throw, Langan being undermost.
62.—Nothing. Langan bored Spring down.
63.—Spring had decidedly the best of this round. He made several hits; and Langan received an ugly throw.
64.—“Go to work, Erin-go-bragh! Spring has no hits left in him. You must win it,” said Josh. Langan followed this advice, and some sharp work was the result. Spring could not retreat. Fighting till both down.
65.—(“Go in, Jack,” said Josh., “as you did the last time, and you will soon spoil his fine science.” Langan rushed in, but Spring avoided his blow. In closing, the struggle to obtain the throw was violent in the extreme, but Langan got it; Spring came down on his back, and Langan on him, and the breath of the Champion was nearly shaken out of his body. Spring was picked up by Cribb in a weak state, and looked extremely pale. Here two or three persons hallooed out six to four on Langan, but the confusion was so great that no bets could be made.)
66.—In this round the English Champion put in a tremendous nobber, and also fibbed Langan down. (“That’s a settler,” said a bystander. “Indeed it is not,” replied a Paddy, “Spring will not settle his account this time.” (Laughing.) “Where’s Jack Randall?” says Josh.; “here’s a countryman for you! Spring’s tired of it. He can’t hit a dent in a pound of butter.” “Well done, Josh.,” said Spring, smiling, “chaff away. I’ll give you all you can do, except winning.” “We can’t lose it,” replied the John Bull fighter.)
67.—Spring was still cautious: he would not give a chance away. Both down.
68.—Langan’s left hand told on Spring’s body; but the Irish Champion received a nobber for it. Langan seemed determined to have Spring down, at all events. The struggle for the throw was severely contested; Langan got Spring undermost.