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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (April 10, 1910)
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAN, PORIXAJTD, APRIL, 10, 1910. 3 HEAVYWEIGHT CfiAMPiOH OF THE WORLD CHAPTEH xirr. X Met Jim Corbett. IF I live to be a hundred and mine is a lonfr-llved family I'll never forget that first day at Shaw's Springs. WTen Billy and I left our rig we didn't Ko Into tha hotel. They told us that Corbett was In his handball court and we went straight out to meet him. It was a perfect day. I remember. The eun was shining and the glare from the snow that covered the ground was blinding. Corbett had estab lished a regular camp' at this little hotel a few miles out of Carson City at the edge of the hills. They had built for him a barn-like structure con taining a big handball court and a snug dressing-room. Billy and I walked down toward it through a deep path in the snow. I looked curiously at the un painted yellow pine walls and tried to imagine the world's champion moving about within. I had seen his picture everywhere a tall, handsome, wiry fel low with hair brushed back In a pompa dour they called him "Pompadour Jim" in those days. As .we ncared I listened, but didn't hear a sound in side. A bushwhacking photographer had followed us down from the hotel, and now he pranced off Into the snow with his camera and held us up to get a pic ture of Billy Deianey arriving with Jim's new sparring partner. Seems funny, looking back now. If that pho tographer had known that he was tak ing the first picture of a coming world's champion, wouldn't his eyes have- bulged out? His only idea was to snap us because we were connected In some way with the camp of the champion he might have snapshotted Corbett's Chinese cook with equal In terest, and in fact. I think ho did. Just as the photographer set up his machine the handball court door opened and a young fellow poked his head out. He wore snow glasses and looked at me curiously. He was a college athlete, and was sparring with Corbett for the fun of it and Incidentally writing stor ies for a New York newspaper. We be came great friends afterward. and when I was champion' he had become a sporting editor and once traveled across the country to see me fight. When the photographer had snapped us we went inside. The handball court was empty. I put my suitcase down on the floor and looked around. That sultoRse held about all I had in the world at the time, a couple of changes of clothes and a well worn sweater with a neck stretched all out of shape through being pulled over my head bo often. Deianey opened a little door In one corner of the room, and then I had my first sight of the great man I was to work with and whose boxing skill was lo have such an effect on my later con tests in the ring. Corbett was just getting dressed for his work. It's strange how vividly every little fletatl of an important event conies up In a man's memory. I can shut my pyes and sre that little dressing room now and smell it. In onn corner a email stove burned red hot Its pipe runninjr straight up through the roof. Behind the stove on both sides lines were . stretched, and on them woolen tights and underclothes were drying-. The warm air was filled with a min gled odor of sweaty woolens and fresh fine wood and rundown concoctions. Reside the stove, engaged in drying out the clothes, was a squarely built, rather fat fellow, wearing a mask that exposed only hit mouth and nose and eyes and that looked like a biff yellow bologna curled around his countenance. He turned to .Deianey and said, "Hello, Bill," in a voice that was & kind of husky squeak. This was Billy "Woods, an old-time heavyweight from Tenver. Tilted against the farther wall was a round-jawed, big-shouldered fellow with a grin on his face, wear ing dark red tights. Con McVey, he was. There were two or three others - Juki reporters from the papers. All of this T took in from the corner nf my eye. The thing I really saw was the champion. Ho was sitting on the corner of his ruhdown conch carefully lacing his boxing shoes. "Without wait ing he jumped up and shook hands with Deianey. Then he turned to me. j "So you're Pliancy's now giant, pre j you?" ho asked, smiling in a friendly way- "You look big enough." I T was so busy looking Corbett over that I almost forgot to answer. But I i phook "hands and instinctively gripped him hard to see what he was made of. All the time I was wondering if this slim, sinewy fellow could be the great champion I had heard so much about. "Where did he keep his fighting strength? Ho was just about my own height, but fully 40 pounds lighter, if I was any judge of men. His eyes were 6eep set. The Fkin was drawn tight over his cheek-bones, and was well browned by the weather. He had a cock-sure way about him. like a man who knows he can fight and would re cent any imputation to the contrary. "Get ready, big fellows.' said he, and we'll have a little tryout- Got your tuff with you?" I had, and in a few minutes I was r-ady for work. Corbett looked me over and sized up my strength and condition. f "You ought to do if you have any speed," he said. "What I need is a fast man who can make me go some." I made up my mind right on. the spot that the cham pion wouldn't find me lacking. Then Woods and McVey dressed and after a quiet talk with Corbett. Iolaney asked the newspaper men and the rest of the staff to go up to the hotel and leave him alone with me. There was some argu ment, but Jim insisted. He explained that he wanted to have a private tryout and see how wo would work together. 1-le didn't care to have any onlookers, and he wouldn't. It would be as fair for one newspaper man as for another, but no one could see the bout. At last the crowd left. We went from the dressing-room into the big handball court, whore the air was much cooler. I looked around with, a little curiosity. It was surely a line place to train a mail in plenty of room and plenty of air from the openings under the eaves. There were no windows for curious people to stare in through if you wanted to have a private bout. This fact was probably noticed by the people on the outside, for I could hear them walking around In the snow and speculating on what was going to happen. I heard aft erward that one large stout reporter with much enterprise hunted up a saw horse, and standing on it found a knot hole through which he could see the bout in spite of Corbett's objections. He must have had a friendly feeling for J im, or. prrha-ps. it was just the natural inclination to boost a champion. At any rate, I believe he sent a story to his paper to the effect that Jim had beaten me all over the place, and had finally knocked me out. That was just a joke, of course, for nothing of the sort happened. Corbett didn't knock me out. or knock mo down. I've never been knocked down In my li?e. He didn't try to. and if lie had tried I think he'd have broken his fists without upsetting me. for I was just about as hard as the iron I'd been working with. Billy Deianey did want Corbett to try rue and fight several rounds, telling me to cut loose .and fight as hard as I wanted to. But Corbett had a different idea. He had told "White- that if I was a big. strong1 follow without speed ecjOfiglk-to make -me useful tie could find lt out without taking the trouble to risk breaking his hands on ma. If I was good enough to keep, as his spar ring partner, then there was nothing to be gained by trying to beat me up as soon as I arrived in camp. That might spoil my usefulness by making me afraid of him. If I happened to be a very dangerous fellow, he'd be taking unnecessary risks almost at the begin ning of his training. In any case, the thing to do was to see how we'd work together, and that was all he eared U about. He wanted to know how much work he'd get out of me, Andwe didn't fight. We boxed and went at it good and hard. No doubt they heard us banging up against the sides of the handball court and heard a lot of stamping around and gloves landing. In that few minutes I got a new Idea of what a champion should be like. Griffin was clever enough when be fought me, but he was nothing be side this Corbett. Jim danced in and out so fast that it was hard to hit him at all. He ducked under swings easily and bobbed up again unhurt. He jabbed me and Jumped away before I could get him- Now and then he tried to feint me out. but I never did fall for a feint, even in those days. When a man feints at me I just walk into him, and h)e can punch away if he pleases. At the end of our bout I was pleased AT THE EW-OF CUfC &OUT X VJrXS VLffASt enough with myself. Corbett had land ed on me almost whenever he wanted to, but he hadn't shaken me with his punches. I didn't feel like trying to get away from him. I had worked fast, and I noticed that when I went after him he took pains ,as a rule, to move out of the way. That showed me some thing. I didn't need to back away even from a champion like Corbett. And he had to back away from me. So all I needed was to develop fast footwork and some of his skill in hitting, and I'd have at least an even break with him or any one else. I determined to get that speed before I left Carson. It was naturally in me, for I could outrun any man I had ever met, and fast footwork In boxing was only an other way of applying that swiftness of foot that I used in running. When they called us to dinner I went down with the crowd, and I ate more than any two men at the table. At last I was started on the way to the top. I was among the champions, even if was only as a sparring partner. ' it CHAPTER XIV. My I,lfe fa (Corbett's Caiup. Up to this time I'd always had -a hazy Idea that it would be a fine thing to be champion of the world. I remember the first time the thought came to me. I was Just about 34 years old and weighed 300 pounds. I'd been reading about John L. Sullivan, and It always seemed funny to me that a world's champion shouldn't be any bigger than a schoolboy like my self. One day as I was walking down town with father we passed a couple of boys fighting in the street. We stopped a moment to look on, and father began Improving the occasion by pointing a moral. 'But my mind was all on the fight. "Father," I said all of a sudden, if It ONE' LfWE"SToUr REPORTS. Found a. knothw-E . . was only for two hours I'd like to wear the beit." "What belt?" he asked in a puzzied way. "The beit for the prize ring cbamplon ebjp of tha M," i aald uutl-. "Toa young rascal," said my father, "if you talk like that I'll spank -you." And he might have done it, too. for he was a big strong man, as broad as a house- and weighing well above 300, In spite of the fact that he didn't carry an ounce of fat. I guess from that time on I always had the idea back In my head somewhere, al though I didn't waste thought on it. I al ways felt sure that something good would come to me, whether it was in the. ring AAJMAOiED To GT 6ood MHrcrC.. or in business, in course of time. I wasn't in a hurry- But now, having felt the weight of a champion's punches and having hustled him around the floor when it was man to man and the doors locked, the old ambi tion woke up all of a sudden. From that afternoon I knew the biggest Tionor In the ring wasn't beyond my reach. That night I ate a big dinner and went to bed an hour later. iBut In the hour between dinner and bedtime I thought the whole thing over. Here was a chance for me to work three or four weeks with the master boxer of them all. There was no need for hurry. I'd take my time and learn all I could. I'd be patient and let Corbett hammer me as much as he chose, but ev ery day I'd tuck some new Information away in the back of my mind. Then, when the championship fight was over, I'd go out and meet all the heavyweights, whip them one by one, and finally fight Corbett or Fitzsinimoris. I laid my plans right there and kopt my mouth shut. "When I went to bed that night I 'dropped off to slfep In a couple of sec onds, as I always do. I slept without moving until Billy Ielaney came and shook me to wake me up for breakfast. When we all sat down Deianey turned to me with a solemn look on his face an d said : "You're a nervouo big fellow, aren't you?" "Why, no," I said. "I'm not nervous." "You don't wint to be nervous just about boxing with the champion," he said, not paying any attention to my denial. ""You aren't going to be hurt much. You otu?ht to try to get in some sleep. Don't lie awake all night, because if yom do you won't be strong enough to give Jim here any work." , "I don't lie awake a minute," I de clared, feeling that 'Deianey wasn't giv ing me a good reputation. ' "Then why did you get up in the mid dle of the night as if you couldn't sleep and sit in the window for a couple of hours?" he went on, more solemnly still. "I didn't," I said. "Why, Bill and I both heard you cut In Connio McVey. "You must have heard somebody else," I said, wrathfully. "Oh, now, don't get sore," put in Cor bett, who had been keeping still up to that time. "You'll get over being ner vous when you've been with us for a while." That last jab, and from the cham pion himself, got my goat. I popped a whole potato into my mouth to get it out of the way, and nearly choked. But by the time my tongue was cleared for action I had a chance to do some thinking. Instead of answering him I You' RMOU"616 Ft LLC", neM,'x YOU T", AitTCD BIW.V MtAHM . .- went to work on my breakfast In silence, inwardly determining to show how "nervous" I felt over boxing a champion just as soon as' I could get the gloves on with 'him again. While Corbett sat there selecting carefully from the different dishes and eating with what appeared to me but a very moderate appetite for a big man, and Billy Deianey who was always a little dyspeptic nibbled, and the oth ers took what they wanted, I managed to get away with six or eight soft boiled eggs and as many chops, with vegetables of one sort or. another. In fact. I was making out nicely when I noticed that Billy Deianey had stopped and was regarding me as solemnly as before. I looked up for a moment while i In the act of reaching for another chop, j "Don't you feel a little sick Jeff?" i Billy asked, solicitously. I only stared at him. "Last night you were too nervous to sleep," he went on, "and this morning something's the matter with your ap petite. Why don't you brace up and try to eat a bite or two? Tou can't give Corbett any work on an empty stom ach." Here the whole crowd began to laugh and I hurriedly came to the conclusion that they were having a little fun with me. They were all just ordinary men If they were in a champion's camp in stead of in a boiler shop. Whatever awe I had for them all dropped away In a second and from that time on I was "Jim" or "Big Fellow" to everybody in camp. Many a time in my life I've been in less pleasant company, and many a time fait far less at boms among people, 0 w. who wore boiled fchirts and patent leather shoes. That day Corbett and I boxd again. Deianey and Charlie White were coach ing me and telling me what to do for they wanted me to fight as much like Fltzsimmons as possible. They had me shift my feet around,' pull my left hand back a mtle and let drive witn it tor Corbett's ribs. The first time I did it the champion stepped in lightly and shot his right across the point of my chin, it was & good hard punch, but It didn't daze me. It only drove my head back a little. I went right on trying the same blow, and every time Corbett stepped in and landed on my chin. "When I walked back to the dressing room after the round Deianey said: Jeff. I didn't think you'd be willing to try that punch again after I saw the way he landed on you the first time. You must have a great jaw." 'Why. I thought that's what you wanted." I said. "Let me use my left hand in my own way and he won t step In on me like that more than once or twice." 'Time enough time enough, said Billy. 'You're here - to help Corbett train just now. You must box the way you're told to for a few days. In a week or so you can cut loose any way you like." So that Is what I am. At ursi 101- lowed Instructions and tried the blow they told me Fitzsimmone used. But I nev.er could get the knack of it so tnat I felt right in letting the punches go. Every man - has his own instinctive style of fighting. Fltzsimmons had his. and it wasn't like mine at all. It was a style designed to fit his own build. Fltzsimmons had light, thin legs and narrow hips. -e stood in a knock- kneed position- His shoulders were very wide and h had a long reacn. every thing about his build helped him to pivot at the hips and knees and swing his whole body into the bjow. My style was different. I didn't need to pivot like Fltzsimmons. All I did was to stick my left arm out like a piece of scantling and let them run into me. I could hold them off with the left and could hit a hard blow with my arm nearly straight, swinging it a few inches like a club. I could whip that arm down to the body in a good stiff punch and plunge in with it. And the right I used for a good dig into the body whenever I came to close Quar ters. I crouched a little and my chin was partly protected by my left shoul der. When I began using more of my own stvle I did better, and especially after I had begun to try to equal Cor bett's fast footwork. That, I think, was shout the most Important thing I learned from Jim Corbett. My style of hitting was natural and only needed practice. Bat Corbett was a master of footwork, and I picked up many a neat trick through watching him. CHAPTER. XV. ,Vbat 1 Learned at Carton. One of the flrst things I noticed when I began sparring with Corbett was that unless I could find Corbett's toes I might as well throw a stone at a flying duck as try to hit- him. When we first boxed he was as hard to reach as a shadow. I soon grew tired of wasting my blows on the air and determined to force my way to close quarters before letting go a sin gle punch. So I went after him steadily while he jabbed and hooked and danced (lW)-riRW it A Stcovi TJOTT way. -At last. In closinsr. I struck my toes against his, and. lunging at the Batne moment, managed to get home a ood whack on his ribs. As soon as I started forward again I tried the same trick, feeling around for him with my toea of my loft foot and then shooting out one hand or the other. As soon as I felt him I knew he must be within striking distance. White laughed at me after that round and asked me if I waa trying to step on Corbett's feet to hold him there so he couldn't get away, but I kept my own counsel. Corbett knew what I was doing, as I could see plainly, for when we boxed again he took care to keep shifting about rapidly to oonfuee me.' Another thing was the feinting. Cor bett was the best man I've ever seen at that. He was like a fencing master, feinting to draw you into a position that would leave an opening Somewhere else and then taking advantage of it. I had an advantage that few men have at this $:ame, however. An ordinary blow doesn't affect me at all. and even. a. heavy smash doesn't shake me. So all that I needed to do when Corbett feinted was to pay no attention to it, but step right in toward him and lash out with either hand, according to his position. This I've always found to be very dis concerting to a boxer. It makes half of his cleverness of no use at- all. "When a clever boxer can feint a man out he has the match all his own way. Put when lie can't, then he has no great advantage In being clever. Corbett had a i trick of holding his left arm straight out from the shoulder, drawing it back, and either feinting rapidly with it or drop ping it In with a sort of half jab and half hook. If the feint drew your guard high he was likely to step in with a hard right hand hook over the kidneys. When I stepped in at the moment or his temt and punched straight at his Jaw with my left hand he changed, his tactics and Jabbed oftener. The part of the training that I liked best was the work on the road. I never tired of that, Corbett and I. sometimes with the other sparring partners trailing along, went out every day for a 10 or 12 mile spin. Sometimes we walked and ran alternately, sometimes I ran the whole way at an easy trot, finishing with a 200 or 300-yard spurt as we came near' the handball court. Jim Corbett was very proud of his running ability, and natur ally I ran even with him at iVie finish, although there never was a day when I couldn't have left him far behind. I was a natural runner, and while Oorbett was spending months on the road with a theatrical troupe I had been Tunning over the mountains getting perfect wind and legs as enduring as steel. Hunting in all my spare time for years had given me a. lot of speed too. An Indian, they say. can start on the trail of a fresh, lively deer and run it down in tho course of a day. I grew up with about the same sort of training that tho Indians had. .Besides that there may have been something in my build that gave me speed in spite of my size and weight. Walter Christy, the great professional sprinter and coach of the University of California athletic teams, looked me over carefully when I was training for a fight years later, and said that if I had taken to running instead of fighting he could easily have made a "ten-second man" of me have drained me so that I could cover a hundred yards In 10 sec onds. He said that my muscles were verv long and supple and extended close to tha joints, eiving great cprins and en- durance, and thai my knee was .formed for speed, having a large knee cap and the sinews attached in a way that pro duced he greatest possible leverage. So, either on a long jog or in a fast sprint, at the finish I could hold Cor bett even. I let him beat me now and then because It seemed to please him. As for the others, they never finished anywhere near us, and we always had to leave one . or two in camp to attend to the champion the moment he got In. I remember one fine day when we took" a great run. Corbett was in trim by that time, fast as lightning, and able to box or run all Any long. We walked out about eight miles and ran all the way back at a fairly good pace. The roads were covered with hard-packed snow. The sky was clear. The air was rare, as It always is in Carson, so high up above the sea. and there was something bracing about it. We only met one or two people on the road, for it left the main track be tween camp and town and trailed away off along the edge of the hills. As we walked on the outward trail I looked the snow-covered hills over and wished a deer would hop up and go over a ridge, so that 1 could start a chase on foot for the fun of it. But no game showed' except a rabbit that started up just ahead of us and ran into a culvert to hide. Coming back we cut out a pretty lively pace, Corbett leading and I trail lng at his heels. Near Shaw's Springs we struck the main road again. A couple of hundrod yards from the handball court the road led a little up hill, and herewe began our spurt. "Come on," yelled Corbett. we ran neck and neck to the finish. Up by the training quarters Billy Woods and McVey were waiting. As soon as ve came within a few yards they dashed In and held the door open for us. In second we were in the warm little dressing-room. Corbett was panting but concealing as well as he could the fact that he was tpretty well winded. He flopped into a chair and held out his legs to let Billy Woods unlace his shoes and pull them off. I took couple of deep -breaths, tore off my wringing wet clothes and jumped into some dry ones. By that time I was as fresh as a daisy, and I turned around -to help rub Jim down. Of the two of us. I think I was in the better condi tlon, and I was only a trainer. Char ley White took me aside half an hour later and asked me what sort of a man we had. I told him all about it. White seemed anxious. "You were fresher than Jim when you came in," he said. "Sure." said I. "but he cut a hot pace all the way and I only had to follow. lies one of the best runners I ever saw." Billy Deianey thought that Corbett was doing too much road work, es pecially when he went out for a long slow Jog on the day before he was to meet Kitzsimmons. "He's leaving his fight on the road," Ielaney com plained. But Jim was a nervous big fellow. He had to be doing something all the time. With me it never made much difference how I killed time just before a fight as long as I knew my work had been done and that I was fit. A game of croquet or a couple of hours' poker playing was good enough to fill in. Corbett was different. He was of a worrying mind, always think ing he had to do a little more to get himself exactly right, and perhaps actually losing more strength through nervousness than he gained by the hard work. Fltzsimmons, they told us, finished his training a few' days be fore the scrap and spent the rest of his time chopping wood- and putting an Iron hot with the ranchers who came around to see him box. CHAPTER XVI. My First Meeting Wlta FitKulinnioni. Only a few more days stood between ub and the great event. The hundred c ao of newspapermen- gathered In Carson were on tiptoe for some new sensation. They had written up every thing from Corbett's food schedule to the way he brushed his hair, and they were always around looking and lis tening and asking questions of every body. A certain biinch of these re porters from a San Francisco news paper had the Inside track in a way. Corbett having accepted an offer of $5000 for exclusive interviews. One "of these men. on a dull day, thought up a scheme to make a good story. He jfJ'UrAfT 't o set proposed to Corbett that he take a run over Fltzsimmons' road and meet the Australian face to face. Corbett had no objection to looking at Kltz- simmone. Every day Fltz' run tooK him from Cook's ranch, where he was training, down past the big stone buildings of the state prison, mere was a good excuse for Corbett's en croaching on his territory, tor tne prison yard was one of the greatest curiosities in the country, and he hadn t seen it yet. In leveling the stone bluff that was to be the prison site the workmen struck a strata that was covered with millions of tracks of all kinds of animals and birds. The sci entists estimated that these tracks were made about . two hundred thous and years ago. on the clay shore of a lake, and that freshets brought down mud and covered them, and that in time the whole thing turned to stone. Today you can see every track as plainly as If it were only an hour old. The prison yard is covered with them, all in hard stone. So it was fixed up that Corbett was to visit the prison quietly in the morn- "We v6JT out EVeW DAY FoRjA3loiow, ing, just about the time Fitz would be out on his run. With Homer Daven port, the cartoonist, and a couple of writers in a rig, Corbett and I started. Corbett's camp was on one side of town, and Fitz' on the other, several miles' apart. We skirted the town care fully, and at last were walking briskly down the road to the prison. It all came out right. After a while we saw Fitzsimmons' head bobbing up and down in the distance. He came running along, swinging a stick in his hand. Ai he reached us he started to go by without paying any attention to our party. But the reporters' called to him and he stopped. Corbett and Fitz SHtimons were face to face. If any thing the Cornishman was the cooler of the two. 1 knew that they had met before in the East, and that they were bitter enemies. They hardly looked at ThF CKPlOti SHOT Ht$ RlfcWT ACROSS To THE fbMT OF. rAY CHIfs. each other now, until one of the writ ers said: "Shake hands, gentlemen. Corbett held out his hand. But fltzsimmons stepped quickly back and refused. "Last time J offered to shake hands with you," he said, 'you struck me in the face. The only time I'll shake with you now Is after i v whipped you." "Then you'll never shake with me," said Corbett, flushing up angrily. "This Is your last chance." For a moment it looked as if they y would come to blows riiht there on ' the road .and I thought I'd see a good fight. But the others interfered. Fitz elmmons went on his way and we kept on to the prison. Corbett was in a rape. "He'll shake hands after he's whipped me, will he?" he growled. Fltzsimmons made quite an lmpres son on me that day. Tie- looked like a Hsrht man to fight for the heavy weight championship, for although his shoulders were nearly as broad as my own. any one could see at a glance that he was just a mass of wiry sinew from head to heels, with no big muscles worth mentioning. And yet he had knocked out a lot of good men in a . punch or two. and he was a cool fel low, who evidently liked to fight. Fitz was a funny combination of fighter and practical joker. Even over at Shaw's we heard of his pranks in training quarters. On this day. so I heard later, he continued his run to Carson, and, going into one of the temporary newspaper offices there, spent half an hour trying to break all records on a punching machine that they had brought'to Nevada to try out the fighters with. And alter tnat, wnen he saw a lot of photograpners wan ing for him in the street, he tried to escape through the back window for a loke. lost his balance and fell neati first Into a snow drift, where ho stuck with both legs waving In the air like a signpost until they pulled him out, after photographing him first. When we came back that day it was to one of the roughest bouts of the training season. Corbett could hardly wait to get the gloves on with me. He seemed to think every man In front of him was Fltzsimmons. Poor Billy Woods, in spite of his pneumatic mask, had his mouth cut up so badly that ho couldn't eat dinner that night. It was a day or two after this, if I remember right, that White and De ianey decided that Jim needed a tryout. So I was told to go up and fight him four rounds as hard as I knew how. Then I had the first real glimpse of Corbett's best work. He surely sur prised me, for I had come to think he couldn't hit. Now he let me come at him, timed me perfectly and drove his right across to my Jaw so hard that I could hear my teeth grinding and my jawbone snap In the sockets. I went right after him and he showed some respect for my left hand by care fully keeping away from it. I got in a few good punches for all that. Walk ing back to the dressing-room after the first round (for we nearly always alternated, three mon boxing vltli Cor bett in turn). I passed the college athlete coming out with the gloves on. "HoV is he today?" he asked with a grin. I moved my jaw from side to side between my thumb arvdL fingers and head it pop. "Oh, he's hitting all right." I said. He surely was, too. After my four rounds I had a very sore jaw and a cut over one eye. But I was perfectly satis fied. If this was fighting and the kind of fighting that a champion does in the ring then I wanted more of it. I wanted to go up against Just that kind of work in the ring, for I know one of my blows, if it landed, had more effect than a dozen of Corbett's hard ones, even if he did make my jaw pop after ward. I had to acknowledge that Cor bett's cleverness was a long way be yond me. and that he often surprised me by turning some new trick I'd never thought of before. I had a lot of re spect for him considering his size and strength. But those four fighting" rounds dMn't shake the new ambi tion that had been growing up in me from the first day in camp the ambi tion to become a world's champion my-, self. Ul-Tlmed Applause Annoying. New York Press. Applause, the strongest tonic to the ac tort sometimes annoys your true artist. If it halts the action of the play too long, or if it drowns the sentence just begun, it Is exasperation to the judicious in the audience. The brighter the dia logue, the more irritating is anything that distracts from it. It is the fashion at our theaters, especially on firft nights, to greet each player vociferously in such a way as to mar the pleasure of the per formance if it contains anj'. Here is a practice from which the thoughtless or the over-enthusiastic should forbeer. It may take the mind of the actor off his work in hand if he is the object of a great deal of applause, and may have the like effect on some who do not receive any such mark of es teem when others are getting a. too-generous share of it. There is plenty of time between acts for this handclapping, which the players can appreciate niuch better than when they are taxing their memories for the text of their parts and trying to concen trate on their work. IHning Fork Is Modern. Indianapolis News. Turkey's war minister has just or dered forks for the convenience of sol diers in barracks. The fork did not appear In Europe as a common table implement until the lith century, though as early as the 13th century grold and silver ones were made for special purposes. The ordinary diner was only provided with a trencher, a napkin and a spoon. For knife he used his own, which he carried about. There was no second trencher, no second spoon, when the several courses came along- he exercised his ingenuity and mopped his trencher with his bread. When Baby Died. AJonto Rlcts, How brief the stay, ajs bautirul as fleetlnir. The time that baby came with u to dwell; Ju-t Ion? enough to clve a happy greeting-. Just long- enough to bid uf all farewell. Death travels down the thickly settled high way. At shining mark they say he loves to aim: How did he find far down our lonely by-way Our little girl who died -without a nameT 9h seemed so like a tender bird whose wtng lets Are broken by the stress of rain and storm; TVith loving care ve pressed the golden ring--letsv And wondered could there be so fair a. form; For death had chiseled without paiue or falter Each feature that the sunny tresses frame; No change of scene nor length of time can alter Our little girl who died without a nam. We do not know the fond endearment spokea To which she listened when she fc'.l asleep. And so, beside s column that was broken. We laid her to slumber ca-lm and deep. TV' traced upon, the fftone with loving fingers These simple words, affection's tear to claim: "In dreams, beyond all early sorrow, lingers Our little girl who died without a name." Close folded ther within the Bible bidden. A flower faded that withered on her breast; Upon the pafte where suoh" as he ere bidden To aek the circle of HU arms for rest. "Of uch ths kingdom, " comes to us so sweetly. Those little ones without a touch of blame; We know He shelters la His love completely. Our little girl who died without a name. Bh sleeps where fragrant mossy willows In sweet and wordless tunes forever wv, Anrl Summer seas. In long and grassy billows. Break Into bloom around hr lonely urave. In memory's hall how many heroes slurr.b-r. We glJd their deeds upon the scroll of far&a; We treasure far .bov this mighty Dumber Our little girl who dlod without name.