calcium was throwed on said ring. Then a special announcer begin a long debate with himself which was mostly blah blah, and wound up with: ". . . and now, ladees and gent-tel-men, I have the great pleasure of intreeducin' to you one and all the most scientific, polished, gamest, and hardest hittin' exponent of the manly art of self-defense that the American prize ring has ever preeduced [the cheerin' usually begin about here]—the world's champeen heavyweight boxer, Kid Roberts!"
Whilst the band played "Dixie" on account of the Kid bein' a born New Yorker, and the mob went hysterical by a large majority, Roberts, caparisoned in a dazzlin' dress suit, circled the arena twice standin' up in the back of a auto liftin' his hat and bowin' this way and that.
Followin' a exhibition of trainin' stunts which was eat up by the natives, the Kid went two snappy rounds apiece with his sparrin' partners, a good dinge heavy correctly called Dynamite Jackson and Knockout Burns, a tough old war horse. Then whilst the mob, which has just seen enough to set 'em deleerious, is howlin' their heads off, the announcer holds up both hands for silence, grabs up his megaphone, and tells the world that Kid Roberts will box three rounds with anybody in the tent outside of the elephants, usin' ten-ounce gloves, which is the same as pillows, to four-ounce mitts for his darin' opponent. In his hand the announcer waves a little pink slip of paper.
"Ladees and gent-tel-men!" he says. "It has been the custom in the past, when champeens towered the country takin' on all corners, to offer a reward of some
