Page:Monthly scrap book, for April.pdf/4

4 entered the arena had never seen a battle, much less shed their blood on the warlike field. Like raw recruits, accustomed to the drum and fife only at parades and reviews, they had strutted on their native dunghills, and heard the echo of a rival's voice, to which they gave a response, accompanied by the quacking of ducks and the cackling of all the hens in the haram. Now that they have met their bosoms beat with youthful ardour; not like two apprentices, who, imitating the follies of the great, challenge one another to a duel, and when met, would both retreat, if either of them set the example. Not so these youthful heroes; the feathers on their necks are ruffled-they fly at each other-blood is shed-and the conflict becomes more furious. Their want of skill is supplied by native ardour-they strike with head and heels- breathe, and strike again; at last, like generous Englishmen, who box each other from pure good will, they resign the contest as it were by mutual consent.

Next appears an ill-matched pair-a bird of game and a dunghill craven: the first paces the floor with martial strut and warlike air, shakes his plumes, and looks with proud disdain upon his trembling antagonist, who droops his head, while his feathers collapse close around him ; he eyes his enemy askance, and recreant like, runs round the pit to avoid meeting him; then, as the last effort of despairing pusillanimity, gains a retreat behind the spectators.

Now comes forth a veteran, who had fought many a campaign-his rival, a youthful hero,