nd runs towards the stage
calling his name. Willum keeps up his guard stoutly, but glances for a
moment towards the voice. No guard will do it, Willum, without the eye.
The shepherd steps round and strikes, and the point of his stick just
grazes Willum's forehead, fetching off the skin, and the blood flows,
and the umpire cries "Hold," and poor Willum's chance is up for the day.
But he takes it very well, and puts on his old hat and coat, and goes
down to be scolded by his sweetheart, and led away out of mischief. Tom
hears him say coaxingly, as he walks off--

"Now doan't'ee, Rachel! I wouldn't ha' done it, only I wanted summut to
buy'ee a fairing wi', and I be as vlush o' money as a twod o' veathers."

"Thee mind what I tells'ee," rejoins Rachel saucily, "and doan't'ee kep
blethering about fairings." Tom resolves in his heart to give Willum the
remainder of his two shillings after the back-swording.

Joe Willis has all the luck to-day. His next bout ends in an easy
victory, while the shepherd has a tough job to break his second head;
and when Joe and the shepherd meet, and the whole circle expect and hope
to see him get a broken crown, the shepherd slips in the first round and
falls against the rails, hurting himself so that the old farmer will not
let him go on, much as he wishes to try; and that impostor Joe (for he
is certainly not the best man) struts and swaggers about the stage the
conquering gamester, though he hasn't had five minutes really trying
play.

Joe takes the new hat in his hand, and puts the money into it, and then
as if a thought strikes him and he doesn't think his victory quite
acknowledged down below, walks to each face of the stage, and looks
down, shaking the money, and chaffing, as how he'll stake hat and money
and another half-sovereign "agin any gamester as hasn't played already."
Cunning Joe! he thus gets rid of Willum and the shepherd, who is quite
fresh again.

No one seems to like the offer, and the umpire is just coming down, when
a queer old hat, something like A Doctor of Divinity's shovel, is
chucked on to the stage, and an elderly quiet man steps out, who has
been watching the play, saying he should like to cross a stick wi' the
prodigalish young chap.

The crowd cheer and begin to chaff Joe, who turns up his nose and
swaggers across to the sticks. "Imp'dent old wosbird!" says he, "I'll
break the bald head on un to the truth."

The old boy is very bald certainly, and the blo