Page:Jim of the Hills.djvu/77

  I says I ain't no judge of that; an' treats it with a laugh. But she keeps the talk on husbands for a minute an' a half. I can't do much but spar a bit, an' keep her out of range; So the third round is the widow's; an' the fight takes on a change.

I'm longin' for a breather, for I've done my nerve a lot. When suddenly she starts on "Love," an' makes the pace reel hot. In half a jiff she has me on the ropes, an' breathin' hard. With not a fight inside me — I can only duck an' guard.

She uppercuts me with a sigh, an' jabs me with a glance. (When a widow is the fighter, has a single bloke a chance?) Her short-arm blows are amorous, most lovin' is her lunge; Until it's just a touch an' go I don't throw up the sponge.

I use my head-piece here a bit to wriggle from the fix; For the widow is a winner 'less I fluke a win by tricks. An' I gets a reel mean notion (that I don't seek to excuse). When I interrupts her rudely with, "But have you heard the news?"

Now, to a woman, that's a lead dead certain of a score. An' a question that the keenest is unable to ignore. An' good old Curiosity comes in to second me. As I saw her struggle hopeless, an' "What news is that?" says she.