But the men were matched unequally; and consequently the conflict was soon ended. In years the Jew was stale, and in heart a very coward--while with length and activity, the fosterer was fresh as a four-year-old and bold as a tiger. The “master of fence” proved not worth “a dish of stewed prunes”--he turned out nothing but a cur, and the desperate onslaught of the fosterer at once demolished his defensive system. The _finale_ was sudden: in a few seconds the unbeliever lay stretched upon the floor of the Cock and Punch-bowl, and, to all appearance, defunct as Julius Cæsar. Heaven help him! The chances against the circumcised sinner were desperate all through. Mrs. O’Leary was making a radical change in her toilet when she heard the alarm, and before she was ready for battle, the battle was over. Down she sallied like a Bacchante. Alas! it was only to see a defeated Israelite on the floor, and witness a demolition of property, the value of which was, like pearls, above price. “Oh, heavenly Antony!” she exclaimed, and clapped her hands wildly together, “if ivir I underwint such ruination since I was a girl. A man kilt in the house, and the image of my brother Dick that came from Philadelphy, all in smithereens!” and she picked up fragments of plaster of Paris which once had formed “a busto framed with every grace.” “There’s the Queen of Sheba on the-broad of her back upon the floor, and the divil a morsel of the Prodigal Son left, good nor bad.” She cast her eyes doubtfully around her, “Holy Bridget!” she continued, “why the door of the clock-case is in two halves! Murder! murder!--was ivir a lone woman brought to sich desalashin, and all done while ye could say Jack Robison! Arrah! what set ye a fightin’, wid plenty of liquor, and ye singin’ like blackbirds when I left ye. May the widda’s curse fall on them, night and day, that caused the skrimmage!” Then turning to the fosterer, she inquired if he had been wounded in the affray, and with a marked anxiety Mrs. O’Leary investigated the outer man of Mark Antony. Perceiving, however, that he was personally undamaged, she continued her inquiries as to the origin of what she called the _ruchshin_, intending no doubt to ameree the offender heavily for the losses she had sustained. Manifold were the causes alleged; but all, and by common consent, laid the blame on Mr. Montague. He was a Jew, therefore no allegation against him could be too bad. He was dead, and consequently he could deny nothing. Accordingly, the downfal of the Queen of Sheba, the demolition of my brother Dick, and the destruction of the Prodigal Son, all and every were placed to the account of the defunct, and carried in the affirmative, _neniine contradicente_.