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The idea of a wrinkle or two from Bragg! haw haw haw haw! 'That beats cockfightin', observed Jack, squinting frightfully. 'Doesn't it? replied his lordship. 'The man who's so brimful of science that he doesn't kill above three brace of foxes in a season. 'Which Puff calls thirty, observed Jack. 'Th-i-r-ty! exclaimed his lordship, adding, 'I'll lay he'll not kill thirty in ten years.
After glaring for a few seconds at the spot whence the expected enemy should have issued, the three fugitives relaxed their frowning brows and turned inquiring eyes on each other. "Dis beats cockfightin' a'most," said Ebony, with a sigh of intense relief. "Ay, an' every other sort o' fightin' as I ever heard on," responded Hockins.
"Well, blow my dicky, if this don't beat cockfightin'!" cried Tom Cribb at last. "Anyhow, there's the fiver, lad. But it's a rum go, and no mistake about it." After due consultation, it was agreed that Tom Spring should go into training at the Castle Inn on Hampstead Heath, so that Cribb could drive over and watch him.
"Well, now," said Bobby, after recovering from the fit of laughter and thigh-slapping into which this news had thrown him, "if this don't beat cockfightin' all to nuffin'! why, mother, Hetty'll know baby the moment she claps eyes on it." "Of course she will," said Mrs Frog; "it is really very awkward, an' I can't think what to do. I'm half afraid to tell Hetty."
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