[1] English words incorporated in the Yiddish of the characters of this narrative are given in Italics. "_Say_, Dzake," the presser broke in, "John Sullivan is _tzampion_ no longer, is he?" "Oh, no! Not always is it holiday!" Jake responded, with what he considered a Yankee jerk of his head. "Why, don't you know? Jimmie Corbett _leaked_ him, and Jimmie _leaked_ Cholly Meetchel, too. _You can betch you' bootsh!_ Johnnie could not leak Chollie, _becaush_ he is a big _bluffer_, Chollie is," he pursued, his clean-shaven florid face beaming with enthusiasm for his subject, and with pride in the diminutive proper nouns he flaunted. "But Jimmie _pundished_ him. _Oh, didn't he knock him out off shight!_ He came near making a meat ball of him"--with a chuckle. "He _tzettled_ him in three _roynds_. I knew a feller who had seen the fight." "What is a _rawnd_, Dzake?" the presser inquired. Jake's answer to the question carried him into a minute exposition of "right-handers," "left-handers," "sending to sleep," "first blood," and other commodities of the fistic business. He must have treated the subject rather too scientifically, however, for his female listeners obviously paid more attention to what he did in the course of the boxing match, which he had now and then, by way of illustration, with the thick air of the room, than to the verbal part of his lecture. Nay, even the performances of his brawny arms and magnificent form did not charm them as much as he thought they did. For a display of manly force, when connected--even though in a purely imaginary way--with acts of violence, has little attraction for a "daughter of the Ghetto." Much more interest did those arms and form command on their own merits. Nor was his chubby high-colored face neglected. True, there was a suggestion of the bulldog in its make up; but this effect was lost upon the feminine portion of Jake's audience, for his features, illuminated by a pair of eager eyes of a hazel hue, and shaded by a thick crop of dark hair, were, after all, rather pleasing than otherwise. Strongly Semitic naturally, they became still more so each time they were brightened up by his good-natured boyish smile. Indeed, Jake's very nose, which was fleshy and pear-shaped and decidedly not Jewish (although not decidedly anything else), seemed to join the Mosaic faith, and even his shaven upper lip looked penitent, as soon as that smile of his made its appearance. "Nice fun that!" observed the side-whiskered man, who had stopped sewing to follow Jake's exhibition. "Fighting--like drunken moujiks in Russia!" "Tarrarra-boom-de-ay!" was Jake's merry retort; and for an exclamation mark he puffed up his cheeks into a balloon, and exploded it by a "_pawnch_" of his formidable fist. "Look, I beg you, look at his dog's tricks!" the other said in disgust.