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Updated: May 28, 2025
I've been sparring with 'em some pretty good ones, too." "How did you manage?" "All right. You know, Flynn always said I gave promise of being a pretty good boxer, so I've been working a little in the afternoon at his gymnasium. I had to, Roger, to keep in shape. There are all sorts of chaps there, mostly professionals. You know he's training this new middleweight, Carty, for a fight next March.
The railway material is much better than I expected it to be, but coal is very dear. "The motor lorries work well. There are three types in use the heavy commercial cars, the middleweight lorries, which carry over a couple of tons, and the lightweights, taking about one and a half tons. These lorries form an army service.
These were no "pussy" shows, for we had some professionals among us: "Sailor Duffy," one of our second lieutenants, was middleweight champion of Victoria, and one of the ship's crew was champion wrestler of London.
If he hadn't dealt so competently with the situation murder would have been done. Did you learn your boxing at the Academy, Lieutenant?" Helen asked, trying to treat the situation lightly in spite of her hammering heart. "I was the champion middleweight of our class," Beecher could not help saying boyishly, with another of his blushes. "I can easily believe it," returned Helen.
"Yes, I should like very much to take lessons too, Dick; it is one of the things that I have always wished to do. I suppose one can do it of an evening, or any time you like?" "Yes, any hour suits those fellows. You ought to get either a heavy middleweight or a light heavyweight; you will be a heavyweight yourself by the time you have filled out.
A lithely powerful figure took the tall steps of the house three at a time, and turned, under the light, to toss away a cigar. "Cheest!" exclaimed the wayfarer in tones of awe: "that's K.O. Doyle, the middleweight, ain't it?" "Sure!
"My, what a strange name!" cried Maud. Then, as the proprietor laughed with the heartiness of tradesman at good customer's jest, she said, "Going to set 'em up, Max?" He pressed a button and rang a bell loudly. The responding waiter departed with orders for a whiskey and two lithias. Maud explained to Susan: "Max used to be a prize-fighter. He was middleweight champion."
Phil knocked out the man standing beside Stiles with one blow on the head from the butt of his revolver. Shouting encouragement, McCorquodale went to the hard pressed Svenson's assistance Iron Man McCorquodale, former near middleweight champion and the light of battle was in his eye. A man ran out of the bush, his yellow teeth bared in a snarl of rage.
Sounds like the whole works had stopped to listen to a fella. Swearin' ain't so hefty then. Sort of outdoor stage fright, I reckon. Say, do you believe preachin' ever did much good?" "Sometimes I've thought it did." "I seen a case once," began Overland reminiscently. "It was Toledo Blake. He was a kind of bum middleweight scrapper when he was workin' at it.
Whatever of living tissue may have shrunk and quivered deep beneath the surface of Miss Hoag was further insulated by a certain professional pride that of the champion middleweight for his cauliflower ear, of the beauty for the tiny mole where her neck is whitest, the ballerina for her double joints. "Wanna come up and dance with me and find out?"
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