Dandy obeyed, and in a few moments he was the counterpart, so far as dress was concerned, of his master.
"Now stand up to it like a man, for I'm going to give you a hard one to-day," added Archy, as he flourished with the gloves before his companion.
There was a faint smile upon his countenance as he uttered these words, and Dandy saw signs of unusual energy in his eyes. He evidently intended to do some "big thing," and the sport was therefore more distasteful than ever to the body-servant, whose hands were, in a measure, fettered by his position.
Dandy placed himself in the proper attitude, and went through all the forms incident to the science. At first Master Archy was cool and self-possessed, and his "plungers" and "left-handers" were adroitly parried by the other, who, if his master intended to win a decided triumph on the present occasion, was determined to make him earn his laurels. But Dandy did little more than avoid the blows; he gave none, and received none.
"Come, stand up to it!" shouted Archy, who soon began to be disgusted with these tame proceedings. "Why don't you exert yourself?"
"I do, sir; I have done my best to ward off your blows," replied Dandy.
"I will give you something more to do, then," added Archy, and sprang to his game with redoubled vigor.
As a matter of prudence, Dandy permitted himself to be hit once on the side of the head. This encouragement was not lost upon Archy, and he increased his efforts, but he could not hit his rival again for some time. After a few moments his "wind" gave out, and operations were suspended. When he had recovered breath enough to speak, he proceeded to declare that Dandy had no spirit, and did not try to make the game exciting.
"I have done my best, sir," replied Dandy.
"No, you haven't. You haven't hit me yet, and you haven't tried to do so."