ll-weighed intention to give a full, true, and correct account of
Tom's only single combat with a schoolfellow in the manner of our old
friend _Bell's Life_,[2] let those young persons whose stomachs are
not strong, or who think a good set-to with the weapons which God has
given us all, an uncivilized, unchristian, or ungentlemanly affair,
just skip this chapter at once, for it won't be to their taste.

[1] #Predicate#: say or assert.

[2] #Bell's Life#: a London sporting journal.

It was not at all usual in those days for two School-house boys to
have a fight. Of course there were exceptions, when some
cross-grained, hard-headed fellow came up who would never be happy
unless he was quarrelling with his nearest neighbors, or when there
was some class dispute between the fifth form and the fags, for
instance, which required blood-letting; and a champion was picked out
on each side tacitly,[3] who settled the matter by a good hearty
mill.[4] But, for the most part, the constant use of those surest
keepers of the peace, the boxing gloves, kept the School-house boys
from fighting one another. Two or three nights in every week the
gloves were brought out, either in the hall or fifth form room; and
every boy who was ever likely to fight at all knew all his neighbors'
prowess perfectly well, and could tell to a nicety what chance he
would have in a stand-up fight with any other boy in the house. But,
of course, no such experience could be gotten as regarded boys in
other houses; and as most of the other houses were more or less
jealous of the School-house, collisions were frequent.

[3] #Tacitly#: without words, silently.

[4] #Mill#: a set-to or fight.

After all, what would life be without fighting, I should like to know?
From the cradle to the grave, fighting, rightly understood, is the
business, the real, highest, honestest business of every son of man.
Every one who is worth his salt has his enemies, who must be beaten,
be they evil thoughts and habits in himself or spiritual wickedness in
high places, or Russians, or Border-ruffians, or Bill, Tom, or Harry,
who will not let him live his life in quiet till he has thrashed them.

It is no good for Quakers, or any other body of men, to uplift their
voices against fighting. Human nature is too strong for them, and they
don't follow their own precepts. Every soul of them is doing his own
piece of fighting, somehow and somewhere. The world might be a bet