A gulp of liquor dulled the pain,
And then the two flasks clinked again.
Time!
There was Bill as grim as death.
He rushed, I clinched, to get more breath.
And breath I got, though Billy bats
Some stinging short-arms in my slats.
And when we broke, as I foresaw,
He swung his right in for the jaw.
I stopped it on my shoulder bone,