As we have already recorded in our memoir of Bendigo, the Nottingham hero lost no time in accepting this challenge, and stated he had placed £100 in the hands of Peter Crawley to make the match. Unfortunately for the Deaf’un’s reputation, he had, through his intimacy with Young Dutch Sam, become entangled in a vicious companionship, as the humble “pot-companion” and gladiatorial buffoon of a clique of dissolute young noblemen and swells, the last expiring parodists of the school of which “Corinthian Tom” and “Jerry Hawthorn” were the models. By these and their companions he was carried off to France, on the pretext of training and seconding Owen Swift in his second fight with Jack Adams, and much obloquy was cast on him unjustly, under a supposition that he had run away from his engagements. A “Paris Correspondent” transmitted the following:―― “PARIS, June 14.――The Deaf’un arrived in this city on Sunday, under the _Mentorship_ of Sancho Panza, from Seven Dials, a ‘buck’ of the first water. He met Swift on the Boulevard des Italiens, and was so affected at the interview with this interesting _exile_, that the water came from his eyes like the _jet d’eau_ in the Temple Gardens. As the speediest mode of acquiring an acquaintance with the French language, he lives entirely on _fricandeau de dictionnaire_. He has already won the affections of a grisette by his very natural imitation of the statue of Cupid. He afterwards tried the _Venus de Medici_, but that was a decided failure. He has been favourably received by the patrons of British Sports in the French capital, but it is feared he cannot be presented at the Court of Louis Philippe, in consequence of his having neglected to present himself at the Drawing-room of our lovely young Queen. In a visit to the _Jardin des Plantes_, he thought he recognised a young brother, but on closer inspection he discovered it was only the chimpanzee. He appears to be regarded with as much curiosity in Paris as Soult was in London, and expected the old Marshal would have given him ‘a Wellington reception,’ but hitherto the gallant veteran has not recognised him as ‘a companion in arms.’ His presence has already had an influence on the fashions, and ‘_pantalons à la Burke_’ have made their appearance in the Palais Royal, while ‘_gantelets à la Deaf’un_’ are noted as a novelty in _Le Courrier des Salons_.”