the more chances we got of livin' to a ripe old age, get me?"
Well, that fails to steady my nerves to any great extent, but I'm outwardly cool when we go down the aisle to the ring. The place is packed to the chandeliers, and, just like Kayo Kelly said, the customers pays plenty of loud attention to the blue silk bathrobe Judy give me. However, I was getting used to the crowd's more or less good-natured razzing, and while I can't say it done me any good, it didn't make me want to run back and lock myself in the dressing room for a good cry either! Shifty McTague is already in the ring, and I walk over and politely shake hands with him, while Nate looks over his bandages. McTague is one of them tall, lanky birds, looking more like a boxer than a hitter. He gets a reception from the mob, most of which had their dough on him, which would of satisfied a actor. I draw a storm of hoots, with a few scattered handclaps. To this day I think the handclaps was from my seconds, Shiney Jepps and Kayo Kelly.
Around the ring is a circle of boxes, all full of dignified-looking gents in dress suits—officials of the locomotive works, Nate finds out. The rest of the mob is so excited before the bell that half of 'em can't even sit down. Nate instructs me to go after Shifty McTague's mid-section exclusively in the first round, as Shifty don't look to him like he could take it. Then—the gong!
I come out and go to touch gloves with Shifty, and he sneers at my extended hands, jabbing my head back
