pon him as an infamous
poltroon.

These two observations gave a necessary fillip to the courage of the
challenger. The parties took their stations. The trumpet sounded to
charge, and the combatants began their career with great impetuosity.--
Whether the gleam of Sir Launcelot's arms affrighted Mr. Sycamore's
steed, or some other object had an unlucky effect on his eyesight,
certain it is he started at about midway, and gave his rider such a
violent shake as discomposed his attitude, and disabled him from using
his lance to the best advantage. Had our hero continued his career, with
his lance couched, in all probability Sycamore's armour would have proved
but a bad defence to his carcase; but Sir Launcelot perceiving his
rival's spear unrested, had just time to throw up the point of his own,
when the two horses closed with such a shock, that Sycamore, already
wavering in the saddle, was overthrown, and his armour crashed around him
as he fell.

The victor, seeing him lie without motion, alighted immediately and began
to unbuckle his helmet, in which office he was assisted by the trumpeter.
When the headpiece was removed, the hapless knight of the Griffin
appeared in the pale livery of death, though he was only in a swoon, from
which he soon recovered by the effect of the fresh air, and the aspersion
of cold water, brought from a small pool in the neighbourhood. When he
recognised his conqueror doing the offices of humanity about his person,
he closed his eyes from vexation, told Sir Launcelot that his was the
fortune of the day, though he himself owed his mischance to the fault of
his own horse; and observed, that this ridiculous affair would not have
happened, but for the mischievous instigation of that scoundrel Dawdle,
on whose ribs he threatened to revenge this mishap.

Perhaps Captain Crowe might have saved him the trouble, had the wag
honourably adhered to the institutions of chivalry, in his conflict with
our novice. But on this occasion, his ingenuity was more commendable
than his courage. He had provided at the inn a blown bladder, in which
several smooth pebbles were enclosed; and this he slyly fixed on the head
of his pole, when the captain obeyed the signal of battle. Instead of
bearing the brunt of the encounter, he turned out of the straight line,
so as to avoid the lance of his antagonist, and rattled his bladder with
such effect, that Crowe's horse, pricking up his ears, took to his heels,
and