"Oh, certainly," he replied, chuckling to himself.

The man who gave me my first lesson, a man of my own build and height,
appeared, also laughing as he noticed who the applicant for another
lesson was. My barrack-room instructor was on hand also, for I had
confidentially communicated to him that evening my intention to try
again.

There is something fiendish in the Celtic nature, some beast in the
blood, which, when aroused, is exceedingly helpful in matters of this
kind. In less than sixty seconds, I had demonstrated to the onlookers,
and particularly to my opponent, that I had been to school since last
meeting him. I had not been particular about fancy touches, or the
pointless, gingerbread style of showing off before a crowd. There was
a positive viciousness in my attack, which was perfectly legitimate in
such circumstances; but it was the first time I had ever felt the
beast in my blood, and I turned him loose; and if I had been made
Prime Minister of England by a miracle, I could not have felt
one-hundredth part of the pride that I did, when, inside of the first
thirty seconds, I had stretched my instructor on his back at my feet,
and in the absolute joyfulness and ecstasy of my soul, I yelled at the
top of my voice, "Hurry up, ye blind-therin' spalpeen, till I knock
yez down again!"

The man got up, and was somewhat more cautious, but utterly
unprepared to be completely mastered at his own game in five minutes;
and, when the chief instructor interfered and ordered his assistant
out of the ring, I begged for more; and so a fresh man was put in, and
another, and another, until six men had failed to tire me, or to
disturb me in the least. After the first two I laughed, laughed