“At it we went. Boys, you otter ’a’ ben there! You otter ’a’ seen it!
That was wrastlin’! ’Hen Sime an’ me clinched I ketched him ’round the
waist with my right arm an’ got a hold of the strap of his right boot
with the forefinger of me left hand. He gits his left arm ’round my neck
an’ down my back somehow, an’ with his right hand tears the buttons
off me coat an’ grabs me in the armhole of me waistcoat. Over we goes,
like two dogs, snarlin’, an’ snappin’, while the boys in a ring around
us cheered, an’ the girls crowdin’ the school-house porch trembled an’
screamed with fright. We twisted, we turned, we rolled over an’ over tell
we looked like livin’ snowballs. Sime got off the boot I’d a holt on, an’
give me a sudden turn that almost sent me on me back. But I was quick.
Mighty souls, but I was quick! I ups with me foot an’ lands me heel right
on his chist, an’ he went flyin’ ten feet inter a snow-bank, kerryin’ me
coat-sleeve with him. He was lookin’ up at the moon ’hen I run up to
him, an’ I’d hed him down, but he turned over, an’ they wasn’t nawthin’
fer me to do but to set on his back. I ’low I must ’a’ set there fer half
an hour, restin’ an’ gittin’ me wind. Anyway, I was so long I almost
forgot I was wrastlin’, fer he give me a sudden turn, an’ ’fore I knowd
it he hed the waist holt an’ hed almost th’owed me.
“But I was quick. Mighty souls, but I was quick! I keeps me feet an’
gits one hand inter his waistcoat pocket an’ hung to him. ’Henever you
wrastles, git your man be the boot strap or the pocket, an’ you has the
best holt they is. Ef I hedn’t done that I might not ’a’ ben here to-day.
But I done it, an’ fer a full hour me an’ Sime Cruller rolled ’round,
even matched. Time an’ agin I got sight o’ Becky Stump standin’ on the
porch, her hands gripped together, her face pale, her eyes almost poppin’
outen her head, she was watchin’ us so hard, an’ the wery sight of her
urged me on to inhuman efforts. It seemed to hev the same ’fect on Sime.
Me heart beat so hard it made me buttons rattle. Still I kep’ at it. Sime
was so hot it was fer me jest like wrastlin’ with a stove, an’ still we
kep’ at it. Then all of a sudden--it was two hours after we hed fust
clinched--everything seemed to swim--I couldn’t feel no earth beneath--I
only knowd I was still holdin’ onto Sime--then I knowd nawthin’.
“‘Hen I come to, I was layin’ be the school-house stove, an’ Becky Stump
was leanin’ over me rubbin’ a snowball acrosst me forehead. The other
folks was standin’ back like, fer they seemed to think that after sech an
exhibition it was all settled an’ they didn’t want to disturb us.
“‘Becky,’ I whispers, ‘did I win?’
“‘You did,’ she sais. ‘You both fainted at oncet, but you fainted on top.’
“‘An’ now I s’pose you’ll hev me,’ I sais, fer it seemed like they was
somethin’ in her eyes that kinder urged me on.
“She was quiet a piece; an’ then she leans down an’ answers, ‘Do you
think I wants to merry a fien’?’”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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