The result
corresponded to a certain degree with the predictions of the
Sergeant; I gave my foe a bloody nose and a black eye, though,
notwithstanding my recent lesson in the art of self-defence, he
contrived to give me two or three clumsy blows. From that moment I
was the especial favourite of the Sergeant, who gave me further
lessons, so that in a little time I became a very fair boxer,
beating everybody of my own size who attacked me. The old
gentleman, however, made me promise never to be quarrelsome, nor to
turn his instructions to account, except in self-defence. I have
always borne in mind my promise, and have made it a point of
conscience never to fight unless absolutely compelled. Folks may
rail against boxing if they please, but being able to box may
sometimes stand a quiet man in good stead. How should I have fared
to-day, but for the instructions of Sergeant Broughton? But for
them, the brutal ruffian who insulted me must have passed
unpunished. He will not soon forget the lesson which I have just
given him--the only lesson he could understand. What would have
been the use of reasoning with a fellow of that description? Brave
old Broughton! I owe him much."
"And your manner of fighting," said I, "was the manner employed by
Sergeant Broughton?"
"Yes," said my new acquaintance; "it was the manner in which he
beat every one who attempted to contend with him, till, in an evil
hour, he entered the ring with Slack, without any training or
preparation, and by a chance blow lost the battle to a man who had
been beaten with ease by those who, in the hands of Broughton,
appeared like so many children.
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