CHAPTER VIII.
THE DOCTOR'S PRIZE-RING ILLUSTRATION.
But at last the Doctor gave his spell-bound audience the benefit of a prize-ring illustration, which ran on this wise: He said "that the Southern champion had choice of ground, and the corner in the ring with his back to the sun, which compelled the Northern pugilist to face the fiery orb, which he regarded quite an advantage, as he thought 'Sam' could not long endure the hot blaze in his face. He described 'Sam' as a man of giant frame and strength, but awkward movements, and questionable powers of endurance, a Goliath in appearance, fearful to look upon or to hear, his voice like that of his Philistine prototype. But he had not the pluck, the heroism, the chivalry of his antagonist, and, indeed, could not have, for he was descended from the Roundheads of England, who in all their generations had been a pestilent and meddlesome race of fanatics wherever found, at home and abroad. Not so with the Southern champion. 'Johnny' came down from the Olympic heavens of the English Cavaliers, brave, chivalrous, with small but compact frame, agile, confident, the very David of the Southern house of Israel."
He said "the prize was the grandest ever battled for among the battling nations. The fight in the first few rounds was a regular stand-up give-and-take. The first knock-down and first blood were awarded to 'Johnny' at Bull Run, or Manassas. After that he feinted, dodged and retreated, till at Richmond he got in a stunning blow on the giant, and 'sent him to grass.' After being well sponged up in the Washington corner, by Abraham and Mac, his seconds, the giant came to time again, and a few more rounds were had, at Gettysburg, Fort Donaldson, Shiloh, Perryville, New Orleans and Vicksburg, where the little man of the South was repeatedly knocked down and roughly handled in chancery. 'Johnny' tried once to suddenly flank 'Sam' and get first to the Washington corner, which well-nigh proved fatal to his resources of strength and endurance.
"After this the programme of the little David was changed to dodging, retreating, falling, a la Tom Sayers; but he was to put in a telling blow when he could, tapping the wind, closing the sight, and drawing blood as much as possible, and when he couldn't, to depend mainly on avoiding blows, but keep on provoking them, thus leaving 'Sam' to exhaust himself in 'beating the air,' as heavy blows given in the air are more hurtful and exhausting to the striker than when delivered upon an object. David was to make feints and dodge, which would set the Northern Philistine in a rage after him around the ring, the one giving prodigious blows in the air, the other keeping out of harm's way."
This sort of negative policy the learned, pious and patriotic Doctor claimed would "give victory to the Southern champion, and he would bear the giant's head in triumph to the camp of Israel."
Save the want of rhetorical dignity in the illustration, it was all well enough, only so it had been true to the facts, but unfortunately subsequent events went to show that the little wiry man of the South became exhausted by the dodging and retreating policy first, and went under at last, and the bloody sponge was thrown up in token of his defeat.
Some time before this appearance of the divine orator a card appeared in the Houston press, over the Doctor's name, threatening dire vengeance upon his slanderers, according to the code duello. In his speech he referred to the card, and then giving a Randolphian angle and shake to his dexter index finger said, with bitter venom, "that card is to stand till after the war, when there will be time to settle with my enemies." The moral disgust we felt at this vile utterance was simply unutterable.
The next day a certain widow lady, owner of a large plantation and a hundred negroes, was in the store; she was tall and straight, with sharp angular features, a dark Southern complexion, black hair and eyes in keeping, a masculine business turn of mind, and occupied perpendicular space in air, about five feet nine inches. Taken undivided her presence was rather commanding. Approaching us at the counter, with quizzing eye, and an air of triumph, she said:
"Well, Sir, how did you like the speech yesterday?"