'Wish I could duck like that,' he added.

'Well, the 'ole thing there is you 'ave to watch the other man's eyes.
But light-weights is always quicker at the duck than what heavier men
are. You get the best boxing in the light-weights, though the feathers
spar quicker.'

Soon afterwards the contest finished, amidst volleys of applause. It
had been a spirited battle, and an exceedingly close thing. The umpires
disagreed. After a short consultation, the referee gave it as his
opinion that on the whole R. Cloverdale, of Bedford, had had a shade
the worse of the exchanges, and that in consequence J. Robinson, of St
Paul's, was the victor. This was what he meant. What he said was,
'Robinson wins,' in a sharp voice, as if somebody were arguing about
it. The pair then shook hands and retired.

'First bout, middle-weights,' shrilled the M.C. 'W.P. Ross (Wellington)
and A.C.R. Graham (St Austin's).'

Tony and his opponent retired for a moment to the changing-room, and
then made their way amidst applause on to the raised stage on which the
ring was pitched. Mr W.P. Ross proceeded to the farther corner of the
ring, where he sat down and was vigorously massaged by his two seconds.
Tony took the opposite corner and submitted himself to the same
process. It is a very cheering thing at any time to have one's arms and
legs kneaded like bread, and it is especially pleasant if one is at all
nervous. It sends a glow through the entire frame. Like somebody's
something it is both grateful and comforting.

Tony's seconds were curious specimens of humanity. One was a gigantic