Round 1.—As the men stood face to face King looked the pink of condition, and not only did he stand over Truckle, but his attitude was decidedly the more artistic and unconstrained. Truckle stood firmly, his left well out, and his right fore arm covering the mark, so that there was little of the novice in his position. Both men seemed anxious to begin work, and manœuvred in and out when after a few offers on each side, they mutually stepped back, looked earnestly at each other and rubbed their arms. King threw up his hands and advanced, when Truckle cleverly propped him with the left flush in the nose, and drew the carmine. (Cheers, and “first blood for Truckle.”) King again stepped in, and this time got home us right a sounder on Truckle’s ribs, when Truckle got away and down.
2.—Each sparred for an opening. Truckle feinted and tried to draw the Young’un, but it was no go. King smiled and shook his head. Exchanges: Truckle on King’s neck, while, on getting near, King again visited Truckle’s ribs a sounder. Truckle, in trying to get back, slipped, but recovering himself, closed, when King, weaving away, fought Truckle clean through the ropes in his own corner.
3.—As yet little mischief was done on either side, and on coming up each man eyed his opponent confidently. After sparring and manœuvring a bit, each trying to find a weak point in his adversary’s defence, Truckle broke ground and retreated, King boldly following him step by step, when Truckle sent in his left at King’s drinking fountain, which at once answered with a crimson spurt; King, without a check, delivered his right sharply on Truckle’s head, and down went the Portsmouth hero; a sort of staggering fall.
4.—On coming to the call of “Time,” Truckle’s left daylight seemed to have a half shutter up. After some rather pretty sparring, Truckle tried his left, which was neatly stopped by King, amidst some applause; the next moment the Young’un let go both hands straight as a dart, visiting Truckle’s kissing and olfactory organs with a one, two, which tapped the homebrewed copiously. Again he invested on Truckle’s left ear with the right in a heavy exchange, and bored Truckle down in the hitting at the ropes.
5.—Truckle came up bleeding from nose and mouth, and some sparring took place for position, the sun shining brightly in King’s face. They, however, soon got together, Truckle leading off, and getting his left on to King’s mouth, inflicting a cut on his lower lip, which compliment the Young’un returned by another crack on the left listener, which was also cut, and the Portsmouth man found his way to grass in a hurry. (7 to 4 on King.)
6.—Truckle, first to the scratch, led off, but was short; King went in with both hands, and Truckle fell on both hands and one knee, looking up at King, laughingly; it was a bid for a “foul,” but “no go,” as King withheld his hand, nodded, and walked away to his corner, amidst applause.
7.—A very short round. King, as soon as his man faced him, let go both hands, which alighted heavily on Tommy’s cheekbone and kissing-trap, and Truckle went down to escape a repetition of the dose. (2 to 1 on King.)
8.—After a short spar the men rushed to a close, embraced, and Truckle tried to bring his man over. He did not succeed, for King shifted his hold and threw him.
9.—Both up together, when King cleverly ducked his head aside, and avoided Truckle’s left, then rushed to a close, during which he administered some rib-roasters to his adversary’s corpus, and ended by throwing him cleverly, not, however, without getting some sharp half-arm punches about the head and body from the Portsmouth man’s busy right.
10.—The fighting had up to this time been unusually fast for big ones, yet both were active and spry as ever. King went to his man resolutely, and after two or three exchanges with little attempt at stopping, Truckle went down, King standing over him.