In the end this enthusiasm proved the undoing of all his delight.
Towards the end of an intolerably long round, finding that my arms
began to hang like lead, I had rushed in and closed; and the two of
us went to ground together. Then I lay panting, and my opponent
under me--the pair of us too weary for the moment to strike a blow;
and then, as breath came back, I was aware of a sudden hush in the
din. A hand took me by the shirt-collar, dragged me to my feet, and
swung me round, and I stared, blinking, into the face of Mr. Stimcoe.

"Dishgrashful!" said Mr. Stimcoe. He was accompanied by a constable,
to whom he appealed for confirmation, pointing to my face.
"Left immy charge only this evening, Perf'ly dishgrashful!"

"Boys will be boys, sir," said the constable.

"M' good fellow "--Mr. Stimcoe comprehended the crowd with an
unsteady wave of his hand--"that don't 'pply 'case of men. _Ne tu
pu'ri tempsherish annosh_; tha's Juvenal."

"Then my advice is, sir--take the boy home and give him a wash."

"He can't," came a taunting voice from the crowd. "'Cos why?
The company 've cut off his water."

Mr. Stimcoe gazed around in sorrow rather than in anger. He cleared
his throat for a public speech; but was forestalled by the
constable's dispersing the throng with a "Clear along, now, like good
fellows!"