Why (the old men say), why, this Japhra's Gentleman, mark me, he was one of the quick-ones--one of the movers, one of the swift-boys, one of the dazzlers, one of the few! He come in _tic-tac! tic-tac! tic-tac!_--quicker'n my old jaws can say it: _Left-right! left-right! left-right!_--like his two fists was a postman's knock. Pinsent never see nothing like it. He was one of the class ones, this Pinsent--one of the pretty ones, one of the sparrers, one of the walk-rounds, talk-rounds, one of the wait-a-bits; never in no hurry, the class-ring boys--all watching first to see what a man's got for 'em. He muddy soon saw, Foxy! Foxy never see nothing like it. First along, he prop this quick-boy off, an' prop him off, an' prop him off; an' catch him fair and rattle him, an' smash him one and stagger him, an' side-step an' shake him up; but still he come, and still he come, and still he come; _tic-tac! tic-tac! tic-tac!_ ah, he was one of the quick-ones, one of the dazzlers, one of the steel-boys. Pinsent never see nothing like it. He come back after the first round thinking this was novice stuff--going all out like that from the gong--and laughin' at the bustle of it, an' Buck Osborn an' Nut Harris an' his boys laughin' back at him. Second round he come back an' give a bit of a spit on the ground an' ease up his trunks an' look thoughtful. Third round he step back slowly 's if he'd a puzzle to think about,--third round I mind me Dingo, Dingo Spain, chip him friendly while he pass the sponge over him, and Foxy turn on him like he had the devil in his eyes. "What in hell's that to you?" he give him. "Keep your grins in your ugly mouth," he give him, "lest you want me to wipe it for you!" He was rattled some, that foxy one; not hurted much--one of the tough ones, Foxy--but bothered by it an' not quite sure what to make of it, like a man with a wops buzzin' round his head--that was the like of it with that quick-boy comin' at him, an' comin' at him, an' comin' at him. Ay, but he was one of the tough ones, Foxy--one of the lie-lows, one of the shifty ones, one of the snaky-boys, one of the cautions! He went out fourth round for to serve it up to that quick-boy with some of his crafty bits. I like a bit o' craft meself. I was a Maddox man, me, an' I set up a holler, an' we all holler, take my word, when we see Foxy servin' of it up to that quick-boy like he lay hisself to do then. Give his tongue to him a treat, he did. Walkin' out to him--tiptoe an' crouchin' at him. "What, you're in a hurry, my gentleman!" he chips him. "You'll make yourself hot, my pretty pet, if you don't steady down," he chips him. "That's not lady's manners, runnin' about like you've been," he chips him.