57.—Langan commenced milling, and planted a blow on the side of Spring’s head! “Do that again,” said Belcher. Langan endeavoured to follow the directions of his master, but the Champion got away. Spring now hit him staggering, repeated the dose, and Langan went down.
58.—This was a good round, considering the protracted period of the battle. Langan returned some blows till he went down.—(“Take him away,”—“he has no chance.”)
59.—Langan appeared so exhausted that every round was expected to be the last. He went down from a slight hit, little more than a push.
60.—“Wonders will never cease!” said a cove who had lost a trifle that Langan was licked in forty minutes—“why he has got Spring down again; it’s not so safe to the Champion as his friends may think.”
61.—Langan was now as groggy as a sailor three sheets in the wind, and a slight blow sent him down. “I never saw such a fellow,” said Jack Randall; “he’ll fight for a week! He don’t know when to leave off.”
62.—The distress exhibited by Langan was so great that every time he went down it was thought he could not again toe the scratch. If the spectators did not think Langan dangerous, Spring got away from all his hits, to prevent anything being the matter. Langan was once more sent down.
63.—Langan, still determined to have a shy for the £500, made a hit at Spring, but was shoved, rather than hit, down.
64.—For the last fifteen minutes it was next to an impossibility Spring could lose, yet, contrary to all calculations on the subject, Langan still contested the fight. The hands of Spring were in such an inefficient, not to say painful, state, that he could not hit. Here was the danger, as it was possible that he might be worn out, but his caution and generalship did everything for him. Langan was so distressed that a slight touch on his arm sent him down. A good blow must have put an end to the fight, but Spring could not hit effectively.
65.—Langan, when at the scratch, not only showed fight, but hit Spring on the head; the latter, however, had the best of the round, though Langan got the throw, Spring undermost. (“Where’s the brandy?” said Belcher. “Here it is,” replied Tom Cribb; “a brave fellow shall not want for anything in my possession.” “Bravo!” cried Belcher; “that’s friendly, and I won’t forget it.”)
66.—The chance was decidedly against the Irish Champion; nevertheless, he attempted to be troublesome to his opponent. Spring put in a nobber, and also threw him.