You're a wiry one, no mistake.' It was encomium.
With the ingrained contempt of size for a smallness that has not yet taught it the prostrating lesson, he said: 'Weight tells.' 'In a wrestle,' Skepsey admitted.

'Allow me to say, you would not touch me.' 'And how do you know I'm not a trifle handy with the maulers myself ?' 'You will pardon me for saying, it would be worse for you if you were.' The pork-butcher was flung backward.

'Are you a Professor, may I inquire ?' Skepsey rejected the title.

'I can engage to teach young men, upon a proper observance of first principles.' 'They be hanged!' cried the ruffled pork-butcher.

'Our best men never got it out of books.