the championship, there was a lesson of courage and manly pride to every boy and man in England in the fact that the stout heart upbore the smaller man against the blows of a giant for two hours and twenty minutes, though, for nearly two hours of the time, the little man had to fight with his right arm broken.
No wonder Thackeray celebrated this fight in a poem, after the manner of "Horatius," entitled, "A Lay of Ancient London, supposed to be recounted to his great grand-children, April 7, a. d. 1920, by an Ancient Gladiator."
Thackeray carefully followed every feature of the fight, ending thus:—
"Two hours and more the fight had sped,
Near unto ten it drew;
But still opposed, one-armed to blind,
They stood, those dauntless two.
Ah, me! that I have lived to hear
Such men as ruffians scorned;
Such deeds of valor "brutal" called,
Canted, preached down, and mourned.
Ah! that these old eyes ne'er again
A gallant mill shall see!
No more behold the ropes and stakes,
With colors flying free!
......
And now my fists are feeble,
And my blood is thin and cold;
But 'tis better than Old Tom to me
To recall those days of old,
