ose Joe was one of the
best all-round fighting men that ever climbed into a ring?"

"Ah--that 'e were! Joe were better 'n the best--only don't let 'im
'ear me say so, 'e 'd be that puffed up--Lord! But nobody could beat
Joe--black, yaller or white; they all tried danged 'ard, but Joe were a
world-beater--y' see, I trained Joe! An' to-day 'e 's as good as ever 'e
was. Y' see, Joe's allus lived clean, sir, consequent Joe's sound,
wind an' limb. Joe could go back an' beat all these fancy bruisers and
stringy young champs to-day--if 'e only would--but don't let 'im 'ear me
say so."

"You're fond of Joe, Old Un?"

"An' why for not, sir--s' long as 'e don't know it? Didn't 'e look arter
poor old me when 'e 'ad money, an' when 'e lost everything, didn't 'e
look arter me still? An' now 'e 's your shuvver, don' 'e keep a roof
over me poor old 'ead like a son--don't 'e give me the run o' jour
garridge an' let me watch 'im spar wi' you an' your gentlemen friends?
Ain't 'e the best an' truest-'earted man as ever drawed breath? Ah, a
king o' men is Joe, in the ring an' out, sir--only never let 'im 'ear me
say so--'e 'd be that proud, Lord! there'd be no livin' wi' 'im--sh,
'ere 'e be, sir."

Joe had laid by his chauffeur's garb and looked even bigger and grimmer
in flannels and sweater.

"Ho you, Joe," cried the old man, scowling, "did ye bring me that
'bacca?"

"S'posin' I didn't?" demanded Joe.

"Then dang ye--twice!"

"An' s'posin' I did?"

"Then--give it 'ere!"

"An' that's his gratitood, sir!" growled Joe, shaking his head and
giving the packet into the old man's clutching fingers. "A unnat'ral old
bag-o'-bones, that's what 'e is, sir!"

"Bones!" croaked the Old Un viciously. "Bag-o'-bones am I? Yah--look at
ye'self--pork, that's what you are, all run to pork an' blubber an' fat,
Joe, me pore lad--"

"Fat!" growled Joe. "Y' know I ain't fat; y' know I'm as good a man as
ever I was--look at that, you old sarpent!" And he smote himself with
mighty fist--a blow to fell an ox. "Fat, am I?"

"As--lard!" nodded the old man, filling half an inch of blackened clay
pipe with trembling fingers, "as a 'og--"

"Now my crumbs--" began Joe fiercely.

"You're flabby an' soft, me pore lad," grinned the old man. "Flabby as a
babby an' soft as a woman an' fat as a--"

Joe reached out very suddenly, and picking up the old man, armchair and
all, shook him to and fro until he croaked for mercy.

"Lor' gorramighty!" he panted