"Well done, Tony! One for thee!" Then Mr. Gibbs brought his stick down with a sweep, and cut Anthony on the left shoulder.
The sting and numbness roused Anthony's ire, and he made a furious attack on his antagonist, which was received with perfect equanimity and the hardly-broken strain of—
I sing of champions bold,
That wrestled—not for gold.
With ease, and without discontinuing his song, Sol caught a blow levelled at his skull, dealt with such force that Tony's hand was jarred by it.
And all the cry
Was Will Trefry,
That he would win the day.
So Will Trefry, huzzah!
The ladies clap their hands and cry—