"Gad, sir! we are all pugilists nowadays—the Manly Art is all the fashion—and, I think, a very excellent fashion. And permit me to tell you I know what I'm talking of, I have myself boxed with nearly all the best 'milling coves' in London, and am esteemed no novice at the sport. Indeed love of the 'Fancy' was born in me, for my father, sir—though occasionally Roman—was a great patron of the game, and witnessed the great battle between 'Glorious John Barty' and Nathaniel Bell—"
"At Dartford!" added Barnabas.
"And when Bell was knocked down, at the end of the fight—"
"After the ninety-seventh round!" nodded Barnabas.
"My father, sir, was the first to jump into the ring and clasp the
Champion's fist—and proud he is to tell of it!"
"Proud!" said Barnabas, staring.
"Proud, sir—yes, why not? so should I have been—so would any man have been. Why let me tell you, sir, at home, in the hall, between the ensign my uncle's ship bore through Trafalgar, and the small sword my grandfather carried at Blenheim, we have the belt John Barty wore that day."
"His belt!" exclaimed Barnabas, "my—John Barty's belt?"
"So you see I should know what I am talking about. Therefore, when you condemn such a justly celebrated man of his hands as my friend Carnaby, I naturally demand to know who you are to pronounce judgment?"
"I am one," answered Barnabas, "who has been taught the science by that very Nathaniel Bell and 'Glorious John' you mention."