"
"All serene. I'm mum, of course."
"Thanks. You watch the Coon, and you'll pick up no end of wrinkles."
The Coon came out from behind the stall dressed in a vest, trousers, and
thin boots; his black arms were bare, and he had exchanged his cigar for
a straw, which he chewed vigorously. Acton changed his shoes and took off
his coat, and the lesson began.
Acton's opinion of the Coon's knowledge was, in Jack's mind, absolutely
corroborated by the display. His marvellous parrying of Acton's
attentions; his short step inwards, which invariably followed a mis-hit
by Acton; his baits to lure his opponent to deliver himself a gift into
his hands; his incredible ducking and lightning returns, held Bourne
fascinated. Everything was done so easily, so lithely, so lightly, and so
surely, that Jack gasped in admiration. Acton in the hands of the nigger
was a lamb indeed.
"This is an eye-opener," said Jack. "I'll try that left feint on Rogers,
the cocky ass!"
The negro stopped now and then to show Acton where and how to avail
himself of opportunities; and Acton, who was in grim earnest, applied
himself whole-heartedly to the business in hand, and, in consequence, as
Jack afterwards told us, "you could almost hear old Acton travelling on
the right road."
After about half an hour of instruction, Acton said--
"That is enough of jawing for the afternoon, Coon. Let us have three
rounds to finish up with. Take the time, young 'un."
Jack, with immense pride, took out his watch and prepared to act as
timekeeper.
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