and other pugilistic jugginses ore apt to ignore or forget.

Where, we wonder, would the slab-sided "Sprawleybridge Babe" or
the shambling "Baldnob the Titan" have been in front of the small
but active and accomplished "Duodecimo Dumps"? Why, where the
vaunted "Benicia Boy" would have been after fifty rounds with TOM
SAYERS--_with_ his "Auctioneer" in full play. In fact, when a good
little 'un meets a bad big 'un, it is very soon a case--with the
latter--of "bellows to mend," or "there he goes; with his eye out!"

These remarks have been suggested by recent revelations concerning
that much over-rated pet of the mugs--the "Woolwich Whopper," _alias_
the "Elswick Folly," _alias_ HAMILTON's "Novice."

The "W.W." always _was_ a fraud, and, for all his lumbering bulk and
"MOLINEAUX-like" capacity of "tatur-trap," never _could_ train-on
soundly, or--figuratively speaking--"spank a hole in a pound of
butter." Many cleverish trainers, and still more ambitious backers
of the "Corinthian Jay" species, have had a shy, professionally or
monetarily, at the "Woolwich Whopper," and invariably with disastrous
results. The "W.W.," though big enough in all conscience, is not
of sound constitution, nor of the true wear-and-tear sort, is very
difficult (_and_ expensive) to train, and when brought fairly up
to the scratch is certain to go bang to pieces after the first few
rounds, if these are at all of a hot-and-hot character.

Still there are--worse luck!--certain parties connected, more or less,
with the P.R. who--whether from interest, vanity, or sheer cussedness,
still pin their faith to this "huge, lumbering, soft, long-shanked,
top-heavy, shambling, thump-shirking Son of a Gun," as NOBBY NUPKINS,