Now hear! For one hundred, I’m ready to fight you,
Surely, out of mere fairness, you cannot refuse;
You’ll have to contend with no Warren, my Cur-tis,
But with brave Barney Aaron, the Star of the Jews!
Duke’s Place,
September 3rd, 1825.
These poetic effusions, with a dozen prosy letters to boot, failed to bring the men to terms.
Curtis was now indeed “the Pet of the Fancy;” no sparring exhibition of any pretension was perfect in its programme without the Light weight Champion displayed his skill in the art of which he was such a consummate master; and as Dick never hesitated to put on the gloves, and give away a stone or two and a few inches, the disparity of his opponents added a keener interest than usual to his demonstrations. The newspapers of the period are full of them. Curtis was now perforce idle, for there was no boxer near his weight who could get matched against him. Of course he was the object of envy to many of the fraternity, and as
“Envy doth merit like its shade pursue,
And by the shadow proves the substance true,”