e two champions got furiously angry, and used up
each other thus:

No sooner did Low realize that the side of his head was crushed in like
a dent in a plug hat, than he "went after" Stanford in the most
desperate manner. With one blow of his fist he mashed his nose so far
into his face that a cavity was left in its place the size and shape of
an ordinary soup-bowl. It is scarcely necessary to mention that in
making room for so much nose, Gov. Stanford's eyes were crowded to such
a degree as to cause them to "bug out" like a grasshopper's. His face
was so altered that he scarcely looked like himself at all.

I never saw such a murderous expression as Stanford's countenance now
assumed; you see it was so concentrated--it had such a small number of
features to spread around over. He let fly one of his battering rams and
caved in the other side of Low's head. Ah me, the latter was a ghastly
sight to contemplate after that--one of the boys said it looked "like a
beet which somebody had trod on it."

Low was "grit" though. He dashed out with his right and stove Stanford's
chin clear back even with his ears. Oh, what a horrible sight he was,
gasping and reaching after his tobacco, which was away back among his
under-jaw teeth.

Stanford was unsettled for a while, but he soon rallied, and watching
his chance, aimed a tremendous blow at his favorite mark, which crushed
in the rear of Gov. Low's head in such a way that the crown thereof
projected over his spinal column like a shed.

He came up to the scratch like a man, though, and sent one of his
ponderous fists crashing through his opponent's ribs and in among his
vitals, and instantly afterward he hauled out poor Stanford's left lung
and smacked him in the face with it.

If I ever saw an angry man in my life it was Leland Stanford. He fairly
raved. He jumped at his old speciality, Gov. Low's head; he tore it
loose from his body and knocked him down with it. (Sensation in the
crowd.)

Staggered by his extraordinary exertion, Gov. Stanford reeled, and
before he could recover himself the headless but indomitable Low sprang
forward, pulled one of his legs out by the roots, and dealt him a
smashing paster over the eye with the end of it. The ever watchful Bill
Stewart sallied out to the assistance of his crippled principal with a
pair of crutches, and the battle went on again as fiercely as ever.

At this stage of the game the battle ground was strewn with a
sufficiency o