COULD USE HIS FISTS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 380, 22 July 1911, Page 3

COULD USE HIS FISTS.

The American larrikin who is fond of street fighting comes in for many experiences. In Detroit at the foot of Bates Street a policeman fo.uid a young man sitting on a barrel with both eyes swollen and his nose knocked out of shape. All was over before the policeman got there, but some of the crowd still lingered, and a boy undertook to explain matters. "We was all a-sittin' here," he began, "when that feller there, whose name is Jim, and who thinks he is bad, got hungry to fight some one." "Wanted to fight, did he?" queried the officer. "Yes, the awfullest way. He sassed six* men in turn, but they would not stop. He just cried because two great big loafers wouldn't pitch inter him and let him throw hissclf. By and by a dude of a chap tame along. He was Mttle and he was purty, and ycu orter seen his bewtifal pants ! He was a-lookin' fur the Mt. Clemens boat, ye know." "Yes, and what happened ?" "Why, Jim begins to smile as soon as he sees the little dude, I and we who knows Jim knows that sunthin* was up. The chappie he comes up, rests one of bis patent leathers on that there box, and says : 'Fellahs, I'm lookin' fur the Mt. Clemens boat, ye knaw.' With that Jim jumps up and wants to »-now who dares to call him a fellah." "Wanted to pick a fuss, I suppose ?" observed the officer. "He did. He wanted to pick a mortal combat. He meant to breakthat little dude right in two and use him to pieces fur fish-bait. The little chappie looks at Jim in a weary way, and puts up an eye-glass like this and says :—"Ah, me deah fellah, it's custom, ye knaw, but I beg pawdon. Does the—aw—boat leave from this dock ?" He looked mighty scart, and that encouraged Jim, and Jim he begins to cuss and blow." "Still anxious, eh ?" "The anxiousest kind of anxious. he feels that he has got to tackle that dude or chew the rag, and as a starter he hauls off and spit ter-backer-jiuce on the little one's shiny shoes. Mebbe he expects the dude to run away, but he didn't fly wuth a cent. He stays right there and looks Jim all over and smiles and says : 'Me deah fellah, will yon kindly take your handkerchief and remove the—aw —ye knaw ?" "But Jim didn't remove ?" queried the officer. "Becher life he didn't ! He just looks all round to see if there's a copper in sight, and then he reaches out and tries to poke his finger intc the little one's eyes. He don't get there, however. Chappie jumps back and says : 'Weally, mc deah boy, 1 cawn't put up with such familiarity, doncher knaw—cawn't possibly do it ! If you go to frolic with me I shall be obliged to hurt you, doncher know !" "'And then, of course, Jim sailed iD to smash him ?" "Of course. Spit on his hands, and sailed in to wreck chappie's bloomin' future, but sunthin' happened. The little fellah drops his cane, put up his dukes, and in one blessed minit Jim was a licked man. Chappie skips around him, and climbs over him, and fights two handed, and by and by he swings for the jaw, and Jim goes over that box and falls asleep like a bloomin' summereven', and it wasn't two minits ago that he opened his bloomin' eyes." "'But about tke dude ?" "Oh, he stops a minit to pick up his cane, and shake a wrinkle outer his pants, and then goes off sayin' : 'Sorry to do it, ye know, but I weally had to. Wanted to poke me in the eye,, doncher see, and I nevah allow it—nevah, Fellahs, ati revoir.' '