We examined the supposed fracture in his ribs, but could discover nothing beyond severe contusions. It will be recollected that Brassey closed his labours with Caunt upon similar grounds, though perhaps with better reason. Nick was immediately conveyed to his omnibus, where he became prostrate in mind and body, exciting but little sympathy in the breasts of the general body of spectators. The fight lasted forty-seven minutes. The ceremony of girding Caunt with the Champion’s Belt then took place, and it was put round his loins, with a hearty wish from those who witnessed his unflinching courage from first to last, as well as his manly forbearance amidst cowardly provocation, that he might long retain it. He afterwards went to Ward’s carriage, and offered him all the consolations of which he was susceptible, hoping that they might hereafter be the best friends, a feeling which Jem Ward, who evidently blushed for the pusillanimity of his brother, good-naturedly reciprocated. Caunt, he said, had proved himself the better man, and should always be an acceptable guest at his house. We ought to have mentioned that Caunt, on quitting the ring, disdained to do so in the usual way, but leaped clear over the ropes, a height of four feet six, and on his way home ran a pretty fast race against a “Corinthian” across a piece of ploughed land for a bottle of wine, which he cleverly won.