Norwich bulletin., 1911-01-07
TALES TOLD THE RING SIDE
THE QUEER BATTLES OF FRANK
 CHILDS.
By w. A. PheIon.

Frank Childs who was one of the
 best of all the negro fighters during
 the heyday of his career, was one
 black boxer who was game. Game as
 a bulldog. knowing not the meanin,
 of fear. and never showing even
 trace of the yellow streak which so
 many critics claim is located in the
 backbone of every sable warrior.
 Long ago-bacS in 1S98-Childs met George Byers, another formidable ne-
 gro, at the old Lenox Athletic club in New York. Early in the fight with
 series of accurate jabs, Byers managed
 to close both of Chlds' eyes. The
 big black fellow could not see his
 man-his lamps were shut tightly as drum He was urged to quit, but shook his woolly head and kept on with the battle.
 Round after round Childs groped his
 way out of his corner, planted himself in the middle of the ring, and waited for Byers. "Ah can't see yo', George"
 he shouted, but An can heah yo. Come on. man, come on, and fight!" And listening for the pat-pat of Byers' feet upon the padding, he would swing
 in the air, keeping up so furious a windmill of flying arms that Byers feared to mingie, and had to content
 himself with winning the mere point decision.
 1ulFdS, one night III Chicago, fought perhaps the strangest battle in the records of the ring. He fought six furious rounds unconscious. He went through the motions of fighting when he had really been knocked out, and, what was more, he won the battle. The big fellow was matched with one Walter Johnson, a dangerous mu- latto from the east-Boston or Phila- delphia. Hardly had the negroes squared off when Johnson landed a terrific swing plumb on ChiIds' jaw. Frank reeled back and fell against the ropes. There he stood, glassy of eye. and helpless. Johnson charged in, and Childs mechanically put up a guard, blocking the swings that would have put him to the floor if one of l them had landed
 Then Childs marched out from the ropes took up his stand in the center, and began to fight. He lasted through the round, and, as he sat is his cor
 ner, simply took the ministrations of his seconds without a word, not even answering such questions as Are you all right?' and How do you feel?'' Round after round he walked slowly from his corner, took up his position. and battled doggedly on. once he floored Johnson with a heavy drive to the chin. Instead of rushing in when Johnson rose. Childs maintained that same stiff attitude of guard, block ana parry. The 1Snt went on and Childs began to draw ahead. Towards the last he could have finished John son at any time, but simply, in wood en, machinelike fashion, blocked and jolted. winning on points, but failing to startle his friends.
 The decision went to Childs and his seconds took him out. He stum- bled against the chairs in the arena as they led him away. In the dress l ing room he remained silent. oblivious to the cheery chatter and the encomi- l ums of his friends. There he sat for | half an hour, and then, suddenly l starting up, he shouted: Nah good i ness, gracious boys-ain't dey nebbah gwine to staht dis fight? Ah'm tired ] ob sittin' heah,''
 l Childs had been practically knocked out in the first round. The animal | instinct-the machinery of the fight l ing brute-had carried him all through | and for six rounds, unconscious as to l brain, a man in a dream. he had | fought and fought successfully! Copyrighted by J. l.. Rooie.)