Preliminaries being thus concerted, and the fatal morning having arrived, the parties met punctually at the appointed spot, and were duly ranged with their backs to each other. At this moment the contrast between the courage of the two gentlemen was to the full as apparent as the ludicrous disproportion in their size. When I was placing them on the line drawn by me for their march, my little man, who possessed true "pluck," and was as cool as a cucumber, observing the trepidation of his opponent, whispered to me, just loud enough to be overheard, "Where shall I hit him, Shipp? Shall I wing him?" On hearing this, the knees of the six-foot Yorkshireman, which were already on the trot, broke into a full gallop; and, when his second placed the pistol, duly primed and loaded, into his hand, he seized it by the muzzle. This mistake, as I always loved fair play, I rectified; and, at last, the word "March" was given. Away went long-legs, getting over at least three yards of ground at each stride; and, had we permitted him to proceed at this rate, the one might as well have fired from the top of St. Paul's, and the other from Table Mountain; so the seconds saved him the trouble of extending his walk any further, by measuring twelve paces; and the signal having been given to fire, the little one's ball cut through the collar of his affrighted opponent's coat, and the big one's nearly shot his own toes off. At this crisis of the affair, the gigantic rustic was scarcely so tall as his little rival, and his knees and body were so inclined to take a more firm position, that we expected every moment he would fall flat on the earth; when his second roused him by saying, "Come, Sir, we must have another shot." This brought him fully to his senses, and he exclaimed, throwing down his pistol, "I'll see you d----d first; he has put it through my coat already, and the next time I may get it where the tailor cannot mend it. No, no; I am perfectly satisfied; so I wish you a good morning." And off he trudged, at a pretty round pace, to the great amusement of the other three, as well as of some country bumpkins, who were grinning from behind an adjoining hedge, and who roared out, "Well done, little un; bravo, little robin-redbreast." By the result of this affair, the six-feet-three gentleman lost his honour as well as his dearie, and the subject was the theme of many a song in Wakefield for years after.