Evening star., 1925-06-06
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES E. TRACEWELL.

Hit him, Jimmien
Stabb1ng through the smoke scent
ed and tinted air, the cry satisfied
the feelings of all those there at the
rlngslde watching the Knockout King
taking punishment from "F'renchy''
LIE Clair
1t was high time, indeed, that JIM
mie hit him. His most ardent sup
porters wished fervently that he
would put over that short overland
1ab he had manipulated so success
fully against his 10 previous oppo-
nents.
Tonight he could not land. For
three rounds the tall Frenchman from
Canada had stepped in close every
time Jimmie had tried it, with the
result that the wicked punch swung
neatly but ineptly over his shoulder,
Shaping him upon the back.
Now, the upper back is not a vital
point in the pugilist's anatomy.
Frenchy" LIE Clair bored in every
time, caught the blow on his back
and stepped right out again, as if he
had been taking dancing lessons or
something
Hit him, Jimmie." screamed the
excited shrimp in the back row,
standing up to get a better look dur
ing the last minute of the fourth.
Around him men breathed quicker,
forgot 10 puff their cigars, let their
cigarettes go out.
LIE Clair backed like an automaton,
then poked out that long left, catch
ing Jimmie squarely on the chin The
oiond lad, 152 pounds of Drawn
shook his head wearily, sidled against
the ropes, dropped his hands.
Have you ever seen a dazed child
under the sarcastic bantering of a
merclless teacher? Have you ever
yourself been hopelessly cornered,
unable TO get away, not able to do
anything?
Then you have a picture of Jimmie
the Knockout King, standing by the
ropes looking pathetically out for an
instant at a sea of friendly, anxious
faces, while four lights shone down
intently upon his sweat-bathed torso,
splotched here and there with vivid
red blotches. where French LIE Clair
had pummeled him.
X X
1t seemed as if the time had come
for Jimmie to be the knocked-out
king. LIE Clair appeared to be right
on the point Of doing what he had
come all the way from Montreal to do.
His shoes thudded softly as he
stepped across the squared circle to
put the nnlShlng touches to his work
or the evening in the last and best
exhibition" at this private seance.
The assemblage groaned.
THAT Frenchman will kill him
now" one said.
You don't know Jimmie" replied
the little shrimp. He can take a lot
Of punishment. He's as good as he
ever was. Watch him now"
Without a sound the fighters
clinched The stoIid rubber-shod
referee quietly parted them. Nobody
said a word on the canvas All the
excitement was down on the floor
among the rows of seats.
'Frenchy" tried his best to land,
but Jimmy somehow managed to slip
out, giving the ropes a mighty
humping as he slid around into the
center of the ring.
Hit him, Jimmier
The Knockout King painted, slipped
left to the head, a harmless blow,
then came around with his big punch.
LIE Clair stepped in, as he had done
thousand times in the four rounds,
now almost ended.
Thump. landed the glove, smacking
the dark Canadian on that pink place
behind his shoulder blades.
The Frenchman, with diSdain born
OF confidence, telegraphed his inten-
ton of settling it with a straight
right for the jaw.
1t was the opening Jimmie had