THE REV. JOHN RUSSELL. 155 



for many a future day, anecdotes of his kindly 

 but quaint habits, and especially of his manly 

 prowess, not only as a sportsman, but as an 

 accomplished athlete, will be cherished even as 

 household words. 



Once, on paying his annual visit to London, 

 whither he had ridden, as usual, every yard 

 of the wav from Sledmere, he called in at 

 Tom Spring's, in Holborn, and, speaking in 

 the shrill tone which characterized his voice, 

 he begged to be served with a tankard of 

 their oldest and strongest ale. Besides himself 

 and the barmaid, the only other person in the 

 room was a square-set, broad-shouldered man, 

 evidently a member of the pugilistic fraternity. 

 On seeing the tankard brought in, the man 

 said, in a mimicking way, "Here, Betsy, bring 

 that ale to me, and take a jug of mild beer 

 to that old woman." 



Sir Tatton turned up his cuffs and buttoned 

 his coat — a process which brought the prize- 

 fighter to his legs in one moment ; and at it 

 they went, there and then. 



In less than ten minutes the rufftan was 

 knocked into a coal-scuttle ; and, having dis- 

 covered his error, refused to continue the unequal 

 fight any longer. 



"You may now drink the ale, my man," said 

 Sir Tatton ; "and then go home and tell your wife 

 you have been well thrashed by an old woman." 



