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DOWN WHITECHAPEL WAY.
Contention begets contention in a land of the pirate races.

Gigs were at high rival speed along the road from the battle-field to London.
They were the electrical wires of the time for an expectant population bursting to have report of so thundering an event as the encounter of two champion light weights, nursed and backed by a pair of gallant young noblemen, pick of the whole row of coronets above.

London panted gaping and the gigs flew with the meat to fill it.
Chumley Potts offered Ambrose Mallard fair odds that the neat little trap of the chief sporting journal, which had a reputation to maintain, would be over one or other of the bridges crossing the Thames first.
Mallard had been struck by the neat little trap of an impudent new and lower-priced journal, which had a reputation to gain.

He took the proffered odds, on the cry as of a cracker splitting.