Although Bingham-Cox was believed by many of his contemporaries to be as mad as Bedlam, there was a certain method in his madness. He had the _savvee_ to see that the new edition of the old fights must be of some literary excellence, that the stories must be retold with a graphic force and without a nauseating repetition of the worn-out _clichés_ which, strangely enough, gave relish to the original accounts when, years before, they appeared in the columns of _Bell’s Life_. His first selection was a fortunate one. Sydney French was the chosen historian of the “fancy.” He approached the subject with an open mind, for he had never seen a fight and knew nothing of the prize-ring. But he was an all-round journalist, and could produce a readable column of copy on almost any given topic within the hour. “The Dean could write well about a broomstick!” exclaimed Stella. That was the sort of journalist French was. He could write well—that is to say, in an interesting way—about a broomstick. He was not always what you might call _on_ his subject. But he was always somewhere round about it. And he was never dull. He kept on at the fights until his death. French was on the staff of the _Dispatch_, and found the Cox engagement a very nice addition to his income. The honorarium for the fight article ranged from seven to ten guineas a week. When French died, Bingham-Cox was in despair. Many men had a “try” at the game. But it was not as easy as it looked. Man after man was found wanting. Among others who took a hand at the task was Mr. T. P. O’Connor, now M.P. for the Scotland Division of Liverpool. “Tay Pay” has a fine roving style of his own, but was apparently unequal to the Homeric strain essential in the epic of the Ring. Willmott Dixon was sent for, and for many years he was not only the writer of the prize-fights, but editor of the paper. French was bad to beat, but Dixon beat him, and beat him easily. Dixon had a knowledge of the Ring; he could “put up his dukes” himself, thoroughly enjoyed “a bit of a scrap,” and his Cambridge experiences stood him in good stead. His memory, too, was rarely at fault. I never met a journalist so independent of books of reference.