Barnabas smiled and shook his head.

"Listen, father," said he, "it has always been the dream and

ambition of my life to better my condition, to strive for a higher

place in the world--to be a gentleman. This was why I refused to

become a pugilist, as you and Natty Bell desired, this was why I

worked and studied--ah! a great deal harder than you ever

guessed--though up till to-day I hardly dared hope my dream would

ever be realized--but now--"

"Now you want to go to London and be a gentleman--hey?"

"Yes."

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"Which all comes along o' your reading o' fool book! Why, Lord! you

can no more become a gentleman than I can or the--blunderbuss yonder.

And because why? Because a gentleman must be a gentleman born, and

his father afore him, and his father afore him. You, Barnabas, you

was born the son of a Champion of England, an' that should be enough

for most lads; but your head's chock full o' fool's notions an'

crazy fancies, an' as your lawful father it's my bounden duty to get

'em out again, Barnabas my lad." So saying, John Barty proceeded to

take off his coat and belcher neckerchief, and rolled his shirt

sleeves over his mighty forearms, motioning Barnabas to do the like.

"A father's duty be a very solemn thing, Barnabas," he continued

slowly, "an' your 'ead being (as I say) full o' wild idees, I'm

going to try to punch 'em out again as a well-meaning father should,

so help me back wi' the table out o' the road, an' off wi' your coat

and neckercher."

Well knowing the utter futility of argument with his father at such

a time, Barnabas obediently helped to set back the table, thus

leaving the floor clear, which done, he, in turn, stripped off coat

and neckcloth, and rolled up his sleeves, while his father watched

him with sharply appraising eye.

"You peel well, Barnabas," he nodded. "You peel like a fighting man,

you've a tidy arm an' a goodish spread o' shoulder, likewise your

legs is clean an' straight, but your skin's womanish, Barnabas,

womanish, an' your muscles soft wi' books. So, lad!--are ye ready?

Then come on."

Thus, without more ado they faced each other foot to foot,

bare-armed and alert of eye. For a moment they sparred watchfully,

then John Barty feinted Barnabas into an opening, in that same

moment his fist shot out and Barnabas measured his length on the

floor.

"Ah--I knowed as much!" John sighed mournfully as he aided Barnabas

to his feet, "and 't were only a love-tap, so to speak,--this is

what comes o' your book reading."

"Try me again," said Barnabas.

"It'll be harder next time!" said his father.

"As hard as you like!" nodded Barnabas.




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