50.—Jones, alter a futile attempt to punish, fell weak.
51.—Slight exchanges, but no mischief, and both down.
52.—Wild, swinging hits which did not get home. Paddock then planted his right heavily on the ribs, and again got down, amidst loud hisses. There was no appeal to the referee, and the fight proceeded.
53.—Paddock let go his left on the mouth; slight exchanges followed, and they then fell on their backs. Both were much exhausted, but Paddock was the stronger on his pins.
54.—After slight exchanges, Paddock again made his right at the ribs, and got down.
55.—Paddock led off, but was stopped. They then got close, and some slight fibbing ended in Jones seeking Mother Earth. Paddock stood looking at him, as much as to say, “Why don’t you cut it?” until he was carried to his corner.
56.—Jones attempted to lead off, but Paddock countered him heavily on the cheek, and he fell, amidst cries of “Take him away.”
57.—Jones, although slow to time, came up steadily, and succeeded in putting in a little one “on the place where Tom’s eye ought to be,” and having received in return on the proboscis, he fell on his latter end.
58.—Paddock rushed in to finish, but Jones, to the surprise of all, stopped him, and some heavy counter-hits took place. Paddock getting another crack on his disfigured nob, and hitting Jones down by a spank on the dice-box.
59.—Paddock planted his left on Jones’s kissing-organ heavily, opening a fresh tap, and Aaron again dropped. For two more rounds did Jones stagger up to the scratch, but it was only to receive—all the steel was out of him—he was extremely weak on his legs, one eye was closed, and the other following suit; his nose, mouth, and ribs were severely damaged, while Paddock—although tremendously disfigured about the title-page—had still a little “go” left in his trotters. Every one begged of Jones or his seconds on his behalf to give in, but the gallant fellow persevered against hope until the close of the 61st round, when getting another heavy crack on the mouth, he fell, almost senseless, and his seconds threw up the sponge in token of defeat, at the end of one hour and twenty-nine minutes. Poor Aaron, who had done all he could do to turn the tide in his favour, was much mortified by this second defeat at the hands of Paddock, and cried like a child. He could scarcely walk on leaving the ring, and was obliged to lie down on an adjacent bank for some time before he could be removed to the station. Paddock was no great shakes, and was evidently much delighted that his task was at an end. He went into the ring with a full conviction that he should not gain a bloodless victory, and that he should get his brain-pan pretty well knocked about, but we question whether even he, confident as he was, anticipated that it would be quite so “hot” as it turned out.