"Willingly. There's to be boxing, and single-stick, and wrestling at the Fair, I understand." "Ay." "And, they tell me, there is a famous wrestler coming all the way from Cornwall to wrestle the best man for ten guineas." "Ay, so there be." "Well?" "Well, Peter?" "They were talking about it at 'The Bull' last night—" "'The Bull'—to be sure—you was at 'The Bull' last night—well?" "They were saying that you were a mighty wrestler, George, that you were the only man in these parts who could stand up to this Cornishman." "Ay, I can wrastle a bit, Peter," he replied, speaking in the same heavy, listless manner; "what then?" "Why then, George, get into your coat, and let's be off." "Wheer to?" "The Fair." Black George shook his head. "What, you won't?" "No, Peter." "And why not?" "Because I aren't got the mind to—because I aren't never goin' to wrastle no more, Peter—so theer's an end on 't." Yet, in the doorway I paused and looked back. "George." "Peter?" "Won't you come—for friendship's sake?" Black George picked up his coat, looked at it, and put it down again. "No, Peter!" CHAPTER XXXIV WHICH DESCRIBES SUNDRY HAPPENINGS AT THE FAIR, AND ENDS THIS FIRST BOOK "I say, young cove, where are you a-pushing of?" The speaker was a very tall individual whose sharp-pointed elbow had, more than once, obtruded itself into my ribs. He was extremely thin and bony, with a long, drooping nose set very much to one side, and was possessed of a remarkable pair of eyes—that is to say, one eyelid hung continually lower than the other, thus lending to his otherwise sinister face an air of droll and unexpected waggery that was quite startling to behold. All about us were jostling throngs of men and women in snowy smock frocks, and holiday gowns, who pushed, or were pushed, laughed, or frowned, according to their several natures; while above the merry hubbub rose the blare of trumpets, the braying of horns, and the crash, and rattle of drums—in a word, I was in the middle of an English Country Fair. "Now then, young cove," repeated the man I have alluded to, "where are you a-pushing of? Don't do it again, or mind your eye!" And, saying this, he glared balefully at me with one eye and leered jocosely with the other, and into my ribs came his elbow again. "You seem to be able to do something in that way yourself," I retorted. "Oh—do I?" "Yes," said I; "suppose you take your elbow out of my waistcoat." "'Elber,'" repeated the man, "what d'ye mean by 'elber'?" "This," said I, catching his arm in no very gentle grip. "If it's a fight you're wantin'—" began the man. "It isn't!" said I. "Then leggo my arm!" "Then keep your elbow to yourself." "'Cod! I never see such a hot-headed cove!" "Nor I a more bad-tempered one."