“A double ditch about my nose?” “Aye!” “Are you able to fight me?” “I'm able to thry it, anyhow, an' willin too.” “Do you say you're able to fight me?” “I'll bring the boy home whether or not.” “Thady's not your match, Jack Ratigan,” said another boy. “Why don't you challenge your match?” “If you say a word, I'll half-sole your eye. Let him say whether he's able to fight me like a man or not. That's the chat.” “Half-sole my eye! Thin here I am, an' why don't you do it. You're crowin' over a boy that you're bigger than. I'll fight you for Thady. Now half-sole my eye if you dar! Eh? Here's my eye, now! Arrah, be the holy man, I'd--Don't we know the white hen's in you. Didn't Barny Murtagh cow you at the black-pool, on Thursday last, whin we wor bathin'?” “Come, Ratigan,” said Thady, “peel an' turn out. I say, I am able to fight you; an' I'll make you ate your words aginst my father, by way of givin' you your dinner. An' I'll make the dacent strange boy walk home wid me over your body--that is, if he'd not be afraid to dirty his feet.” Ratigan and Thady immediately set to, and in a few minutes there were scarcely a little pair of fists present that were not at work, either on behalf of the two first combatants, or with a view to determine their own private rights in being the first to exercise hospitality towards the amazed poor scholar. The fact was, that while the two largest boys, were arguing the point, about thirty or forty minor disputes all ran parallel to theirs, and their mode of decision was immediately adopted by the pugnacious urchins of the school. In this manner they were engaged, poor Jemmy attempting to tranquillize and separate them, when the master, armed in all his terrors, presented himself.