The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1914-03-26


 You know he's never yet been knocked
 out by any one-D
 who cared for poetry, and that had been the red haired schoolteacher who scared him off into the woods.
 Where are you going ?' Stubener demanded in surprise, looking at his watch.
 Pat, with his hand on the doorkhob, paused and turned around.
 "TO the Academy of Sciences he said- There's professor who's go- Ing to give a lecture there on Brown Ing tonight, and Browning is the sort of writer Jou need assistance with. Sometimes I think I ought to go to night school.r
 ssBut, great Scott, manP' exclaimed the horrIfIed manager You're on with the Flying Dutchman tonightr' "I know it. But I won't enter the ring a moment before half past 9 or quarter to 10. The lecture 7sa be over at 9:15. If you want to make sure come around and pick me up in your Iaachine.s
 Stubener shrugged his shoulders helplessly-
 .sYou'v ve got no kick coming Pat assured him. Dad used to tell me a manss worst time was in the hours just before a fight and that many a fight was lost by a mans breaking down right there, with nothing to do but &bink and be anxious. Well, you'll never need to worry about me that way. You ought to be glad I can go off to lecture
 And later that night. in the course of watching fifteen splendid rounds, Etubener chuckled to himself more than once at the idea of what that audience of sports would think, did it know that this magnificent young prizedghter had come to the ring di- fectly from Browning lecture.
 The Flying Dutchman was { young. Ewede, who possessed an unWonted willingness to fight and who was blessed with phenomenal endurance. He never rested, was always on the offensive and rushed and fought from gong to gong. In the outhghting his arms wflirled about like fails in the lnfghting he was forever shouldering pr half wrestling and starting blows whenever he could get a hand free
 From start to finish he was a whirI- wind, hence his name. His failing was lack of judgment in time and distance. Nevertheless he had won many fights by virtue of landing one in each dog en or so of the intending fusiuades of punches he delivered.
 Pat, with strong upon him the eau lion that he must not put his opponent put, was kept busy. Nor, though he escaped vital damage, could he avoid entirely those eternal flying gloves. But 1t was good training, and in mild way he enjoyed the contest
 Crzz16 Tv,41 erak whispered in his ear during the min nate rest at the end of the fifth round. Sure, ,'' was Pats answer.
 You know he's never yet been - knocked out by any one," Stubener warned a couple of rounds later
 Then I'm afraid I'll have to break my knuckIes," Pat smiled. q know fhe punch I've got in me. and when iand it something has got to go. If he won't my knuckles will"
 ssDo you think you could get him now?' Stubener asked at the end of the thirteenth round
 sAny time, tell you.''
 Well, then, Pat, let him run to the fifteenth
 In the fourteenth round the Flying Dutchman exceeded himself At the stroke of the gong he rushed clear across the ring to the opposite corner, where Pat was lefsurely getting to his feet
 The house cheered. for it knew the Flying Dutehman had cut loose. Pat catching the fun of it, whf1nsfcally de cfded to meet the terrific onslaught with wholly passive defense and not to strike a blow. Nor did he strike a blow nor feint a blow during the three minutes of whiriwind that followed.
 He gave a rare exhibition of stall sng- sometimes hugging his bowed face with his left arm, his abdomen with his right. at other times changing as the point of attack changed. so that both gloYes were held on either side his fuce or both elbows and forearms guarded his mid section, and all the time moving about. clumsily shoulder ing or half failing forward against his aIpeaieit aud tloegine his efforts, him. Self naser striking lIof threa tenfng to strike. the while rotkfng with the ins pacts of the stornling blows that beat