THREE FIGHTERS.

Taranaki Daily News, 11 December 1915, Page 7

THREE FIGHTERS.

SERMON FOR BOXERS. Here is a sermon for boxers from the N'ew York Evening Journal:— The crowd was gathering for one of the lx>ach Cross fights. Master of Ceremonies Joe Humphries forced his way past the guardian of the box seats leading a shabbily clad, diffident sort of person with a drooping mouth and a sorrowful eye. "Can't let him in," said the guardian of the gate, halting Humphries' friend.

"Why, it's Terry McGovern," said Humphries. "Nobody has ever refused him vet."

"Can't help it," said the guardian, 'Can't let him in.' 1

Humphries forced his way through the gate, dragging MeGovern with him. The former "Terrible Terry" looked eowed and depresesd. Joe led him to a seat nea- the ringside.

Mr-Govern sat and looked about him blankly, like a child in a strange place. A few minutes later another shabbily rlad figure, this one with a prominent paunch and a red, flabby face, pushed his way past the guardian of the gate. The man tried to halt the trespasser, but the flabby one forced him aside. "Go on," growled the intruder. "I'm 'Young C'orbett."

And it was Billy Rothwell (Young C'orbett), once the trimmest and most alert athlete who ever entered the ring. C'orbett walked down the aisle looking for a seat, There was one beside Mi - Govern ami he settled his flabby body into it.

"Kind of bum house," commented Corbett. .lust then the lights .around the ling flared up. revealing the features of liis neighbor. "Why. it's Terry. Well, how are you. old boy ?'' Terrv ginned the grin of a childish old man. He shook the proffered hand of Piothwell. the same hand which doubled into' a list sent him down to his worst defeat. Then he grinned again childishly and looked about liini in the same bewildered fashion.

Leach Cross leaped lightly into the ring, and was greeted with a cheer. Young C'orbett's lip s parted in a sneer. MeGovern looked up at him curiously. His brow was furrowed. He was trying to think of something away back, and he was puzzled. "You or 1 could have whipped him in a round only a little while back," muttered Young Corhett. MeGovern only looked mildly amused. When the light was on once in a while there eame an expression of ferocity into the face that was almost, blank at other times. He clenched his firsts, and as Crass drew blood from the face of his adversary he licked his lips like a toothless old wolf.

"Bum fight." commented Corbett, "These fellows can't fight any more, And they don't make any money, either. They get hundreds where we got thousands. Hut they keep it. We didn't." McCovcrn was leaning forward. For a moment the haze seemed to clear. ITis eyes gleamed with the old ferocity, the drooping mouth straightened to a thin white line, and the features of Terrible Terry were distinct again. But the bell clanged. The fight was over, and the shabbv figure dropped back into the chair. The sorrowful eyes looked about the crowd as if seeking someone.

Corbett looked at him with something like an expression of pity on his flabßy face.

"If we had only kept something," he growled. "Where did it all go to, anyway V

Leach Cross, the clean-living Jewish boy, leaped nimhly over the ropes, a thousand dollars the richer, ami none the poorer in health. He brushed past the wrecks of veterans without even seeing them.