His coat had been torn to shreds in a scuffle, and his hat was gone.

He had bruises on twenty parts of his body, and blood was dripping from a cut in his head.

His wan features wore a look of a tiny, insane demon.
On the ground, children from Devil's Row closed in on their antagonist.
He crooked his left arm defensively about his head and fought with cursing fury.

The little boys ran to and fro, dodging, hurling stones and swearing in barbaric trebles.
From a window of an apartment house that upreared its form from amid squat, ignorant stables, there leaned a curious woman.

Some laborers, unloading a scow at a dock at the river, paused for a moment and regarded the fight.