TWO SPORTS; OR, OUT FOR A LARK. 233 
“Eh! vat’s dot you are giving me?” said Hans, his 
face red with passion. “Look oud, I am cuvick dem- 
pered. You vant to make me ankry? You mean to 
insinuvate dot I vas a liar? You rascal, you owner of 
a dug-eating dog; you willian. Come from this mud 
oud und I vill bound your face into a shelly, so dot 
your own mudder vont know you, you plasted Ameri- 
caner.” 
At this time Jim could hardly hold in. He threw 
his gun into the mud, sawed the air violently with his 
arms, his fists clenched, and said : 
“You don’t have to ask me out to meet you twice. 
Come on! Come on!” And working himself into a 
frenzy, punched forward, as if hittingan imaginary foe ; 
then he would jump back, as if escaping a return blow. 
“What shall it be, three rounds, Marquis of Queens- 
berry? Or to a finish, London Prize Ring?” 
“Every feller for himselluf, Gooseperry rules. Hit 
me vonce! Or do some liddle ding to make me real 
ankry! and den I vill knock your ret head from your 
shoulders off.” 
Jim made a feint with his left, shot out his right 
straight from the shoulder, hitting Hans a terrible blow 
on the ear. This thoroughly aroused Hans, and like 
an enraged bull he lowered his head, darted forward, 
and by sheer strength, carried Jim to the earth in the 
soft mud and rushes, landing on top. Holding 
Jim’s hands, and sitting astride of him, he exclaimed : 
“* Ah-ha ! vish your friends in the vourd vetrd could see 
you now. Take dot!” and suiting the action to the 
word, he hit Jim in the face. 
“Foul! Foul!” yelled Jim, * youhave lost the fight, 
you hit me when I am down.” 
