The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1894-01-26
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Englishman finally struggled to his foot,
Corbott,, without titho OF pity,
pounded his big gloves into tho face Of
his foo until the latter staggered and
iell against tho ropes, and thon lay nj
most sprawiing on tho floor, tho blood
smearod all over his face. When
Mitchell was again on his tcot, the mon
again closed In Corbott's corner, aud
tnere was n savage exchange, and whom
the gong sounded seconds and rcicree,
and half dozen In tho corner had to
pry the enemies apart, Il was hard
work to bring Mitchell up again, but
Corbett aprang out when the gong
sounded. :"
There was hardly moment OF spar-
ing. Mitchell tried but once, last dos.
pcratc play, to tackle, but Corbett was
remarkably foxy and alert and he soon
crowded tho poor beaten Briton to the
ropes again; then with another OF his
merctless iabs, sat his rival 1at on the
iloor. Mitchell was evidently suffering
severely and his face was tho picture OF
woe. His mouth and nose wore bleed
ing and with his big gloves he had
sneared the blood all over his face, until
his appearance was almost ghastly.
Again Corbett, losing his presence OF
mind, started toward Mitchell and
again his hands swung out and again.
his seconds ran forward to saye him
from nominal defeat. Big John Kelly
ran over to tho ropes where Mitchell
was lying and Corbett was borne back
to his seat.
THIRD ROUND.
Mitchell hardly cared to rise and Kel-
ly's finger went up and down like tho
pendulum Of clock to count the Sec
onds that must elapse before the battle
is over. It seemed an hour before
Mitchell finally rose to his iset again,
and it was dangerously near the limit OF
time, but just before thegong rang out
Mitchell did stand up, leaning against
the ropes, his face the counterfeit OF his
feelings. Kelly waved his finger TO Cor.
bett who was seated in his corner, aud
the American champion sprang forward
for the last time. Striding over to where
Mitchell stood, a dangerous leer in his
eye and with the supreme satisfaction
OF revenge shot his hand out with the
speed OF lightning bolt. The big glove
landly fairly and squarely on Mitchell's
face, and tho Englishman fell prone
upon the stage, blood oozins from his
mouth and staining the rough pine
boards Of the ring. He made ione ut.
tempt to move himself and then turned
over and lay with his face to the floor,
utterly and absolutely beaten, until his
seconds ran over and bore him to his
corner, and with the cheers OF the
thousand people pitched to the highest
key known in the minutes OF public as
senblagea dimly ringing in his ears, he
sat in his corner trying to realize the
auddcnness and completeness with
which all Of his hopes had seen blasted.
THE EAFTERMATH.
Tho crowd remained long enough to
see Mitchell borne to his corner.
While the fallen gladiator was receiving
the consolation Of his admirers, and the
cheering sympathy of Pony Moore, his
father-in-law, Corbett was being sur
rounded and crushed by his frantic
friends, all trying to shake his hand at
once. As soon as the fight waa over,
Corbett slipped on his trousers again
and drew his towels about him, and,
stepping as lightly as when he had en-
tered the ring, he made his way slowly
back to the old kitchen in the yard,
where he had spent an hour before the
fight waiting for Mitchell to come.
Mitchell drew his old gray bathing
gown over his shoulders and, aided BY
his seconds and friends, WAS led back to
his cabin.
Preparations were then made to get
the fighters out OF the city. There was
a great crowd around the dressing room
until the pugilists were ready to leave,
but the majority Of the sports rushed
back to town rs soon as the gong
sounded the death knell of Mitchell's 8
pugilistic hopes, burdened tho wires
with kilograms to their friends and
broke bottles of wine, or cursed their
luck OF bad judgment according as they
had pinned their faith to the American
or British champion.
THE TOWN GOES WILD.
The streets OF the city are thronged
with people, strangers and residents
-